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THE CRUEL CITY 

After the Russian of Dimitry Grigorovitch 


WITH A SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR 


BY 

ERNEST DE LANCEY PIERSON 

AUTIIOK OF “THE BLACK BALL,” ETC., EDITOR “ THE MERRY 
MUSE,” TRANSLATOR OF “THAIS,” ETC. 




NEW YORK 

CASSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY 

104 & 106 Fourth Avenue 


Tz 3 

:q 



Copyright, 1891, by 
CASSELL PUBLISHING COMPANY. 


All rights reserved. 


THE MERSHON COMPANY PRBBS 
RAHWAY, N. J. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER PAGE 

Dimitry Grigoroyitch, 

I. En Route for the Capital, 1 

II. Arrival — First Impressions, 42 


III. In which Arkadii Iyanovitch Pigounoff and his 

Family Appear, 61 

IV. At Cousin Mirzoeff’s, 90 

V. Triumph of Sophia Petrovna— Mirzoeff finds the 

Necessity of Giving Some Advice, . . . 120 

VI. They Dine at the Pigounoffs’, 138 

VII. A Cloud Appears in the Horizon— But a Zephyr in 


the Form of Cousin Mirzoeff Dispels it, . . 177 

VIII. A Plucked Fowl, 208 

IX. Full of Dramatic Episodes, 238 

X. The Best, because it is the Shortest, . . . 266 

XI. A Letter in the Guise of an Epilogue, . „ . 287 


y 

iii 





DIMITRY GEIGOROVITCH. 


The author of “ The Cruel City ” is little 
known in America, save to the students of 
Russian literature. Outside of his own coun- 
try France has shown him the most houor, 
for from a French mother he inherited Gallic 
tastes and the cheerful disposition which finds 
expression in his sparkling stories. 

He represents an entirely different school 
of literature than that of Tolstoi and Gogol. 
While most of the famous Russian novels are J 
pessimistic and gloomy, or mystical and de- 
spairing, Grigorovitch invariably brings his 
stories to a cheerful close. As a young man, 
he was an enthusiastic student of the works 
of Zola and Guy de Maupassant. From the 
first he learned how to give life and realism 
to his scenes ; from the second the economy 


VI 


DIMITRY G R1 G0R0V1 TOIL 


of words, and liow to speak volumes in a 
sentence. 

Grigorovitch, though he is now nearly 
seventy years of age, leads a busy life in St. 
Petersburg. He is the director of a museum 
which he created himself, and also director of 
the literary committee of the Imperial thea- 
ters. Yet he has found time to write many 
novels since he published his first book, “ An- 
ton the Unhappy,” in his twenties. Ilis 
fresh and sincere style, his optimism and 
cheerfulness, have made him very popular in 
the land of somber stories. 

Grigorovitch leads an ideal life in the Rus- 
sian capital, surrounded by public esteem, 
very much sought after by the aristocracy, 
and feted by the court. He is a sort of semi- 
official personage, the historian of the crown- 
ing of Alexander III. He employs his 
influence in favor of young authors, for 
whom he searches industriously, and whose 
debuts he protects. Many a famous Russian 
author of to-day owes his good fortune to the 
kind offices of Grigorovitch. 


DIMITll Y GRIG ORO YITCII. vi i 

“ The Cruel City ” is an admirable picture 
of modern life in St. Petersburg. The most 
insignificant characters are vivid and lifelike, 
and the author has invested the most placid 
scenes with an absorbing interest. Though 
the story never rises to any dramatic heights, 
we are as much stirred by the trials of the 
FoufTiguines as though the forces involved 
were “ battle, murder, and sudden death.” 

With only a mild villain, and no love-mak- 
ing to speak of, “The Cruel City” can hold 
the attention of the reader from the first page 
to the last by its realism, its incisive descrip- 
tions, and the vivid portraiture of its charac- 
ters. 

Ernest De Lancey Pierson. 


Paris , 1891. 



THE CRUEL CITY. 


CHAPTER I. 

EN ROUTE FOR TIIE CAPITAL. 

Nikolai Steparovitcii FouFLioumE was 
ruined. His little property had passed into 
the hands of strangers, and all that was left 
to him to face the world with was three thou- 
sand rubles in money. True, he had an offer 
from his uncle Petrovitch to work in his dis- 
tillery, but to a man who had occupied always 
a high position in provincial society, the idea 
of such a fall was not to be considered. Be- 
sides, he had many relations in St. Peters- 
burg, and so had his wife, and they had all 
urged him to bring on his family, and it 
would be the easiest thing in the world for a 
man of his ability to step into a respectable 
and well-paid position. 

So the entire family of Foufliguine ap- 
1 


2 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


peared one morning in the depot at Moscow, 
prepared for the momentous journey to the 
capital. 

The family was not numerous. It was 
composed of his wife, a pretty woman ele- 
gantly, in fact too elegantly, dressed, and the 
two children, named Lech a and Pacha. Ten 
o’clock had not sounded when Foufliguine 
presented himself at the door of the great 
hall where the baggage was dispatched and 
tickets distributed. Travelers were as yet 
far from numerous. They were mostly the 
servants who arrived with the baggage of 
their masters, and several old ladies who, 
traveling for the first time, had been in a 
state of worry for the past three days for 
fear the train would go without them if they 
did not arrive at the depot before eight 
o’clock. But Nikolai Foufliguine seemed to 
think that there was too much of a crowd. 
He was literally crushed under the weight of 
sacks and large and small packages with which 
he was loaded. The physical weight played 
a small part. The real suffering was moral ! 


THE CllUEL CITY. 


3 


It was really an embarrassing position for 
a man who, up to that time, had lived in his 
own house, surrounded by his serfs, and who 
could not pick up a handkerchief or take a 
cigar without the help of a domestic. Imag- 
ine how ill at ease he felt, charged with a 
mass of packages. As he was not accus- 
tomed to be thus loaded down, he tried to 
support them by his shoulders or his chest to 
prevent everything from tumbling on the 
ground. 

She carried nothing. She advanced with 
an easy step, clad in her velvet mantle, her 
head crowned with a rose-colored bonnet, 
holding the two children by the hand. What 
embarrassed her was the proximity of her 
husband, who puffed and groaned beneath 
his burden. Hardly had they entered the 
hall when she disappeared, dragging the chil- 
dren by their arms. One might have taken 
Sophia Petrovna for a woman of the world, 
who was out taking a walk with her chil- 
dren, or had come to see one of her friends 
off. Nikolai Stepanovitch, who had entirely 


4 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


lost sight of them, turned sharply and broke 
one of his packages. A mass of little pates 
and sandwiches rolled on the floor. 

“Papa, papa, you are losing the pates,” 
cried Lech a. 

“ Be still ! ” murmured Sophia Petrovna, 
drawing the child to her and looking around 
affrightedly. 

“ Oh ! Oh ! All the sandwiches are roll- 
ing away ! Mamma, look at the sandwiches ! ” 
cried still louder little Pacha, 

“ Be still ! ” 

“ My dear ! ” murmured Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch, at the same time sustaining with his 
right shoulder the provisions, which con- 
tinued to tumble off on all sides. 

Sophia Petrovna was obliged to approach 
her husband. 

“ My dear, you have a talent for making 
me carry a lot of useless things,” said the 
husband, in an irritated tone, while his wife 
hid the unhappy packages under her mantle. 
“ Where are we going to place all these bun- 
dles? You might at least carry this band- 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


5 


box — ouf ! This way, my friends, this way,” 
he cried excitedly, seeing two soldiers pass 
with tlieir trunks. “ Follow me — you, my 
dear, go and sit down on a bench with the 
children. I will come back directly when I 
have registered the trunks.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch seized his numerous 
bundles and followed the soldiers toward 
the middle of the hall, where a crowd of 
travelers were waiting their turn to buy 
tickets. 

“ Permit me, permit me,” cried Nikolai 
Stepanovitch, trying to crowd in ahead of 
the others. 

“ There are people here before you. The 
train is not going right off. You can wait a 
little,” responded a merchant with a long 
beard, who did not budge from his position. 

“ My wife and children are waiting. I am 
in a hurry,” insisted Foufliguine, trying to 
advance by force. 

“ The others are in just as much of a hurry 
as you,” replied the merchant coarsely, bar- 
ring his passage. 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


“ Dear friend,” cried Nikolai Stepanovitcli 
to tlie soldier wlio had charge of the trunks 
while regarding him amiably, “ can we not 
move faster ? ” 

“ Have the goodness to wait. Those who 
arrive first, have the first chance,” responded 
the soldier. 

The face of Nikolai Stepanovitcli generally 
wore an expression of good nature, but at 
that moment it did not wear an amiable ap- 
pearance toward his neighbor. 

He had laid his packages on the floor and 
looked around him. No one seemed to be 
paying any attention. Some were occupied 
with their baggage, others chatted with their 
relations who accompanied them, others em- 
braced each other weeping, and still others 
amused themselves while laughing loudly. 
From a corner one heard the pounding of the 
stamp on the tickets. Further, the jingle of 
money where the travelers were paying for 
their places. Some walked about ; there was 
chattering from all sides, each one occupying 
himself with his own affairs. 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


1 


At last the turn of Nikolai Stepanovitch 
arrived. His trunks disappeared and lie ap- 
proached the grille where the ticket-seller 
was seated. The face of Nicolai Stepano- 
vitch assumed an amiable expression. 

“ Those are my trunks,” he said, smiling 
upon the employee. “ The baggage of the 
Proprietor Fouiliguine,” holding up his head 
proudly. 

“ That is all indifferent to me,” said the 
ticket-seller in a dry voice. 

“ Still ” 

“ Eleven rubles thirty kopecks,” inter- 
rupted the employee, without raising his 
eyes, as he slapped down three tickets. 
Nikolai Stepanovitch, greatly wounded by 
this lack of respect, put his hand in his 
pocket and took out the sum demanded. 

“ It is easy to see that no politeness is 
shown here to people of a certain position,” 
he remarked, casting a look full of dignity 
toward the grille and bowing his head. 

“Two rubles eighty kopecks,” continued 
the employee, addressing the next traveler, 


8 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


without paying the slightest -attention to the 
words of Foufliguine. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch thought it best to go 
away, and began to arrange in order the 
bankbills in his pocket-book. Foufliguine 
was a man of moderate height and above 
middle age. His head was bald, surrounded 
by little blond curls. He had lost most of 
his hair very young, which prompted his 
mother to say that he would some day be a 
great diplomat. I do not know how far his 
mother was right, but this I can affirm, that 
Nikolai Stepanovitch was the most confiding 
and easy-going man that you could imagine, 
and that all the world ruled him, beginning 
with his wife and ending with his valet, 
Kariton, whose loss had been cruel for him. 

With his round face always carefully 
shaven, Nikolai Stepanovitch would have 
been agreeable looking had it not been for 
his expression of perpetual astonishment. He 
had an air of being always busy, when really 
his worry had only begun that very morning 
when obliged to carry so many packages. 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


0 


His ideas, too, were somewhat confused. 
They followed each other without order, and 
one displaced the other — so much so that peo- 
ple said his head was filled with billiard balls 
that rolled on all sides — or a wheel, in which 
a squirrel was always dancing. 

He would not think of making the trip in 
the ordinary costume he wore in the country. 
On the contrary, he had dressed himself care- 
fully — a brown coat, striped pantaloons; and 
a black cravat which did not entirely hide his 
irreproachable collar and shirt. Even his hat 
showed that Nikolai Stepanovitcli preferred 
the elegant emporium to the little stores of 
his native town. 

“ What a lot of money I have spent already. 
I can hardly believe it. It is terrible ! Thir- 
teen rubles for each person makes fifty-two 
rubles. It is terrible ! Then the carriages, 
the dinners ! ” 

As he spoke he closed his pocket-book and 
picked up his valise. The other bundles 
he had placed in the bags and sent to the 
baggage-room. Then he rejoined his wife. 


10 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


In seeing her husband enter with only one 
valise, Sophia Petrovna smiled upon him 
agreeably. 

“ Well, have you disposed of everything?” 
she asked. 

“ Yes,” trying to give his face an expression 
of sadness. “ Only, my dear, it is really ter- 
rible. Just imagine ! They took nearly forty 
rubles ! ” 

“ Impossible ! ” 

“ Yes,” seating himself beside his wife. 
u We have already spent enormously. If we 
have still fifty-two rubles to pay for our 
tickets — wouldn’t it be better ” 

“ I know in advance what you are going to 
say.” 

“Yes, my dear, yes. Better let us take 
tickets for the — bah ! it is only prejudice.” 

“ You wish me to travel with peasants,” in- 
terrupted his wife, in a tone that was not en- 
tirely gracious. 

“ But, I assure you, my dear, that it is only 
prejudice. Many nice people travel that way 
— my friend Schilokvastoff always, and many 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


11 


nice ladies. The places are now very well ar- 
ranged. Windows everywhere, clean, well 
varnished ; I assure you we can accomplish our 
journey very well that way.” 

“ And I repeat that your peasants have al 
ready made me sick enough of the country.” 

“ My dear,” cried her husband, “ I repeat to 
you that they are not all peasants. And be- 
sides, what difference does it make ? Am I 
not with you. Just think, no one knows us 
here, and we shall save something. We need 
to save. Think of our situation. We have 
much more money to spend. Try and con- 
quer your prejudices — and your toilette — you 
will have need of much money for your cos- 
tumes at St. Petersburg. Those are indis- 
pensable expenses.” 

“ Very well — but if a single peasant ” 

“ We will immediately change our places,” 
replied Foufliguine in a decided voice, and 
taking up his valise he moved away, followed 
by his wife and children. 

All along the way until they reached the 
passage which led to the third-class waiting- 


12 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


room, Nikolai Stepanovitch could not but 
admire tlie sensible behavior of his wife in 
accepting places at seven rubles. As they 
approached the train he darted in quiet 
glances here and there to see who were to be 
their fellow-travelers. 

“Oh, not for the world,” cried Sophia 
Petrovna, perceiving about fifty peasants, 
men and women, pushing and crowding about 
the windows and doors. 

“ Dearest,” murmured Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch, completely upset, “ I swear to you 
that most of them have come to see their 
friends off. They are not going with us. 
Calm yourself. Look ! ” showing a hand- 
some young man with side- whiskers, who was 
playing with his watch-chain. “ Look,” he 
said again gayly, nodding toward an officer 
who stood by the window. “ Those are the 
real travelers. The others are not going 
with us.” 

Conquered for a second time by the argu- 
ments of her husband — the angelic sweetness 
of Sophia Petrovna was certainly the result 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


13 


of a calculation regarding a costume or a 
mantle which she meant to buy at St. Peters- 
burg — she consented to remain in the room 
while her husband went off to buy the 
tickets. 

After being pushed and jabbed in the ribs 
by several sharp elbows, he heard some one 
say that the train would start in a few 
moments. He took the tickets and rejoined 
his wife, completely upset. 

“ Nikolai ! ” cried a voice behind him. 

He turned and saw his wife running to- 
ward him. 

“ What is it ? ” he asked. 

“ Let us leave here at once. I would not 
stay for the world. Do you hear ? ” 

“ But I have bought the tickets.” 

“ That makes no difference.” 

“ But what is the matter, in the name of 
Heaven ? ” looking around on all sides. 

“ Not here — there,” pointing to the first 
room, where her husband had left her. 

“ Well, what — who is it ? ” 

“ The wife of our druggist is there. She 


14 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


leaves with us. Not for anything in the 
world would I travel with ” 

“ But, great heavens ! What is to be 
done ? The tickets are taken. They will 
not give me back the money.” 

“ Do as you please, but I will not remain,” 
said Sophia Petrovna, in a decided tone ; and, 
taking by the hand Lecha and Pacha, who did 
not understand where they were going, she 
led them toward the entrance. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch overtook them when 
they had reached the pavement. At that 
moment the bell rang, and the crowd surged 
toward the train. 

“We are lost; our trunks — all gone!” 
that was all FoufLiguine could utter at that 
moment, as he swung his valise wildly in his 
hand. But this lasted only a moment. Seiz- 
ing Lecha and Pacha by the hand, he cried, in 
a piercing voice, “Dearest, in the name of 
Heaven,” and darted into the hall, followed by 
his wife. 

“You have plenty of time,” said the guard 
at the door which opened on the platform. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


15 


But in his trouble, Nikolai Stepanovich un- 
derstood nothing. Arrived in front of the 
train, he threw himself into the crowd with 
his wife and children. The worldly aspira- 
tions of Sophia Petrovna gave place to a pro- 
found terror when she found herself sur- 
rounded by pushing peasants. She did not 
recover herself until she found herself in her 
seat — the crowd had almost lifted her there — 
and Nikolai Stepanovitch rejoined her after 
a few moments. 

“ It is always like this, even in the First. 
You have not done badly,” he said, his voice 
and hands trembling. 

Sophia Petrovna did not respond. She ar- 
ranged her hat and cast uncpiiet glances from 
side to side. 

“ She is not here — she is probably in an- 
other car,” puffed Nikolai Stepanovitch ami- 
ably searching, too, here and there. A little 
calmed by the thought that the wife of the 
dyuggist was not with them, and consequently 
could not write to their little village that 
Madame Foufliguine had traveled third-class. 


16 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


Sopliia Petrovna began to examine her neigh- 
bors. 

At her side she found the handsome young 
man with the side-whiskers and the chain, 
whom she had observed in the waiting-room. 
A little farther appeared the officer. Their 
company calmed and softened her humor, but 
at once she began to speak to her husband 
and children, in order that the others might 
see that they belonged to the better class. 

“ Is it not strange,” she said, “ that while 
every one leaves the city in the spring to go 
into the country, we are leaving the country 
to enter the city ? ” 

“You come from the country, just like 
myself,” ventured a gentleman seated oppo- 
site Nikolai Stepanovitch. From his pronun- 
ciation it was easy to see that he was a Little 
Russian. He was not shaved, and wore a 
dirty coat beneath his dusty hat ; two bold 
eyes were fixed on Sophia Petrovna. He 
exhaled a strong odor of brandy. 

“I am from Piriatine; my name is Kar- 
penko ; I am traveling for a law suit. Tell 


TIIE CRUEL CITY. 


11 


me, sir,” ext( nding liis hand toward Niko- 
lai Stepanov tell ; “ it seems to me that I 
have had tl e pleasure of meeting you 
before.” 

“ That’s ver) possible,” said Nikolai dryly, 
as his wife pul ed him by the sleeve. 

Seeing that his hand was not taken, or 
observing the n otion of madame, Karpenko 
threw himself hi 3k and murmured irritably : 
“ Oh, we are so proud, so proud ! ” 

At this moment the whistle blew, and the 
train began to move away. Nearly every one 
took off his hat and made the sign of the 
cross. At the same ti ne one heard exclama- 
tions from all sides. 

“ Ah ; now our horse is c_^ ! ” 

“ Here ! here ! ” 

“ Hear him snort ! ” 
u Here ! here ! ” 

“ Hurrah for the railroad ! ” 

“ We are certainly in strange company,” said 
Sophia Petrovna to her husband, who was 
trying to avoid the savage looks of Karpenko. 
Karpenko, for his part, had turned his back 


18 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


on the Foufliguines, satisfying himself by 
occasionally glaring at them. 

“Mamma, mamma, look how the trees 
are running away ! ” cried Lecha and Pacha, 
whom the father had placed by the win- 
dow. 

“ I had supposed we would go faster than 
this,” remarked Sophia Petrovna. 

“ Oh ! this is only the beginning. As soon 
as the engine is fairly started we shall go 
more rapidly,” remarked the young man with 
the side- whiskers and chain, who sat beside 
Madame Foulliguine. “ This is probably the 
first time you have traveled ? ” 

“Yes, sir, it is the first time,” responded 
Nikolai Stepanovitch, very happy to turn his 
back on Karpenko, whose looks were begin- 
ning to seriously disquiet him. 

“ You are going to St. Petersburg? ” asked 
the young man. 

“ Yes, sir, to St. Petersburg,” replied Sophia 
Petrovna, in a tone which expressed her plea- 
sure in talking to a well-bred man. “ You are 
going also to St. Petersburg ? ” 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


19 


“ Yes ; mad am e, I live there,” responded the 
young man modestly. “ I have been to Mos- 
cow because Prince Scliourounoff is dead, and 
we have just buried him.” 

“ As for myself, I have always lived in the 
country,” said Nikolai Stepanovitch, this time 
in an engaging tone. 

His wife did not pull him by the sleeve ; in 
fact she encouraged him by a look to con- 
tinue the conversation. 

“We are going now to St. Petersburg to 
see some relatives. I have a brother — per- 
haps you know him.” 

“ He is married to the Baronne Laste,” 
added madarne amiably. 

“ Then I have a nephew, a certain Svist- 
cheff, who owns an immense house near the 
Red Gate, which we shall cross. And my 
wife,” continued Nikolai Stepanovitch amia- 
bly, “has also relatives in St. Petersburg — 
a cousin, Madame Mirzoeff, whose husband 
occupies a fine position.” 

“Oh, how glad I shall be to see Alexan- 
drine ! ” 


20 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


“ I can understand that, Madame, after a 
long separation.” 

u Just think, it is six years since we have 
seen each other ! ” 

A conversation so agreeably begun did not 
easily flag. The Foufliguines, enchanted by 
the modesty and genteel behavior of their 
neighbor, began to question him about all 
the pleasures of the capital — the theaters and 
the promenades. The young man answered 
them simply. His eloquence was not bril- 
liant, but his conversation did not lack a cer- 
tain interest. 

He had traveled a good deal, had been 
several times in Italy, in Paris, and along the 
Rhine. The words prince and count were 
constantly on his lips. He was so amiable 
that when the train approached the first 
station, the husband and wife could not con- 
ceal their chagrin. 

“ Already arrived,” said Foufliguine. “I 
hope we shall have the pleasure of traveling 
with you again.” 

“ I don’t know. It does not depend on me.” 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


21 


“We shall be charmed,” cried Madame 
Fouhiguine, not without an air of coquetry. 

At this moment the conductor showed 
himself at the door. 

“The servant of Count Schourounoff ! ” he 
cried. 

“Here I am. In a moment,” responded 
the young man with the side-whiskers, 
hastily leaving. 

If the conductor had announced that the 
boiler was about to burst or that the engine 
was broken, the Fouiliguines could not have 
felt more consternation. 

“ Ha ! ha ! ha ! ” roared Karpenko, placing 
himself before Nikolai Stepanovitch. “ Ha ! 
ha ! ha ! and you thought he was a count ! 
Ha! ha! ha!” 

Many other people joined Karpenko in 
laughing. 

“ Sir, I beg you to let me alone,” cried 
Nikolai Stepanovitch, red with anger as he 
rose hastily. 

“ Nikolai — mercy ! ” murmured Sophia Pe- 
trovna, seizing her husband by the sleeve. 


22 


THE CRUEL CITY . 


“ Leave, in the name of Heaven, I beg of you ! 
Leave at once — we have arrived — every one is 
descending.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitcli seized Lecha and 
Pacha and stepped down on the platform, fol- 
lowed by his wife. 

“ It is terrible ! Everything here has an 
air of unreality,” he said. 

“ As I told you, I could not remain there 
long. It was horrible ! ” 

“ You can go into another car. All the 
places cannot be occupied. We shall see.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitcli walked up and down 
the line of cars looking in at the windows in 
quest of seats. 

“ Here is a compartment entirely at your 
disposal — and of the first class. Hurry and 
take it. Seat yourself, my dear, with the 
children.” 

“ But you ? ” 

“ I will rejoin you at the next station. I 
have forgotten our traveling bag and now 
there is no time to look for it. They are ring- 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


23 


mg. Adieu ! Do you know the bell is 
ringing '{ Adieu ! adieu ! ” he cried to his 
wife. 

The compartment in which Sophia Petrovna 
had installed herself was not empty. Hardly 
had she seated herself with the children in the 
seats than the bell began to ring. At that 
moment two young men and a loudly dressed 
woman entered. She was laughing loudly 
and treated the young men with a freedom 
that caused Madame Foulliguine to open her 
eyes widely. 

The air, imposing and severe, which Sophia 
Petrovna had assumed, at first restrained this 
joyous band, but not for a long time. As 
soon as the train moved away, one of the 
young men stretched himself out on the 
bench. The other, seated by the young 
woman, embraced her twice while pretending 
to arrange her mantle. 

This performance did not escape the eyes 
of Sophia Petrovna. She understood at once 
by what kind of people she was surrounded, 


24 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


and wishing to inspire the young man with 
more respect, she measured him from herd to 
foot with an indignant glance. 

But her indignation only caused them to 
roar with laughter. 

Sophia Petrovna made a gesture of im- 
patience and turned to look out of the 
window. 

“ Katerina Mikhailovna, will you have a 
cigarette ? ” asked the young man who was 
stretched out on the bench. 

Katerina Mikhailovna gave a sign of 
assent. The young man threw hor a cigar- 
ette, which she caught in the air and immedi- 
ately lit. 

“ Pacha, Pacha, look at the beautiful rings 
of smoke they are making,” cried Leclia. 

“ Papa makes just as pretty ones,” said 
Pacha naively. 

“ Be still !” interrupted the mother severely, 
casting a savage look at them. 

The young man looked toward them again. 
Katerina Mikhailovna could not restrain her- 
self ; she broke out in a new fit of laughter. 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


25 


Madame Foufliguine made a grimace of dis- 
dain. 

All her actions only excited the young 
men to begin new pleasantries. The one 
that was stretched on the bench and Katerina 
Mikhailovna began to blow smoke in her 
face. 

“ This is insupportable,” murmured Sophia 
Petrovna, at last, lowering the window with 
an air of indignation. At this moment the 
conductor entered. 

“ Ah, dear friend, come here — you are the 
one we want to see,” cried the young man 
reclining on the bench ; then assuming a 
severe air : “ Listen well ! When we get to 

St. Petersburg, I shall make a complaint 
against you.” 

“ What for ? ” asked the astonished con- 
ductor. 

u Because you have the habit of letting 
strangers come into the carriages reserved for 
families. There ! It is not the first time I 
have remarked this,” casting a furtive look 
at Madame Foufliguine, who, half dead with 


26 


TEE CRUEL CITY. 


terror, continued to look out of tlie window 
and pretended not to hear. 

The conductor approached her. 

“ Your ticket, madame ? ” 

“ Oh ! ” cried Sophia Petrovna, whose 
proud expression soon changed, as if by en- 
chantment, to the most piteous ; “ oh, my 
heavens ! ” 

“ Your ticket, your ticket, madame, if you 
please,” repeated the conductor. 

“ Oh — my husband — my ticket is there. 
Oh, what will they do with me ! ” she mur- 
mured. 

“ You came from the third-class, madame, 
and have installed yourself in a family car- 
riage ! That is not permitted, madame ! ” 

“ But I did not know. Oh, my God ! 
Oh, my God ! what will they do with me ! ” 

The conductor calmed her by saying that 
they would not harm her at all, but that she 
must descend as soon as the train stopped — 
which she did, as you may well believe, with 
great alacrity. 

At the first sound of the bell, Nikolai 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


27 


Stepanovitcli was on the platform, his valise 
in his hand, ready to rejoin his wife. On 
perceiving her so excited and disturbed, he 
ran to meet her. 

“ Oh, Nikolai,” cried Sophia Petrovna, 
almost falling into his arms. “ I conld not 
support that — they insulted me — there was a 
woman — and young men.” 

“ Young men ! ” cried Nikolai Stepano vitck, 
arranging his coat with a disturbed air, and 
looking around on all sides as if he wished to 
throw himself against the crowd, which at 
that moment encumbered the platform. 

“ Nikolai ! what are you going to do ? 
Mercy, stop a moment — think ! ” 

“ But I want to know who insulted you,” 
looking right and left as if he were seeking 
some one. 

Sophia Petrovna recounted in a few words 
the scene that had taken place. 

“ Why, my dear, when you were once 
seated, did you not keep still ? ” in an irritated 
tone. 

“ Then you accuse me ? ” 


28 


TIIE GRUEL CITY. 


“ Not at all, my dear ; still, it was your 
own fault. But it is time to start ; tlie bell 
is ringing. Let us hasten.” 

“ That servant is there — after what took 
place ? ” 

“ No, he has changed his carriage. His 
place is unoccupied. The wife of the drug- 
gist has also disappeared.” 

“And that creature who was always at- 
tacking you ? It is terrible ! ” 

“ He is sleeping, thank God ! At the last 
station I saw him empty three glasses of 
brandy one after another. After which he 
went immediately to sleep.” 

“ Oh, how horrible ! ” 

“ Horrible or not, hurry and enter. There 
is no remedy ! ” ejaculated Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch, stopping in front of his car. Until 
Tver was reached, nothing extraordinary 
happened to our travelers. They did not 
leave their places, for, besides the wife of the 
apothecary, Sophia Petrovna was afraid of 
meeting the young men from the reserved 
compartment, and did not let Nikolai 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


20 


Stepanovitch descend for fear of some 
scandal. 

At Tver they got out, but did not eat at 
the table d'hote. Installed in a corner, they 
dined modestly and returned to the platform. 
The first person they saw was Karpenko, 
who, in front of a counter, was drinking 
brandy. 

“Look, he is still drinking. We shall 
have more trouble,” said Sophia Petrovna. 

“ What a beast ! I am astonished that 
they let in such persons. We ought to warn 
the conductor.” 

But the expectations of husband and wife 
were not realized. When Karpenko entered 
their compartment, he stretched himself out 
on a bench and soon began to snore. 

“ Conductor, is there a place ? ” cried a 
shrill voice. 

“Yes, this way,” responded the conductor, 
showing a seat by the side of Madame Fou- 
fliguine. 

Sophia Petrovna cast an unquiet glance at 
the new comer. She felt now that every 


30 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


voyager was an insolent being, or one who 
would compromise her. 

The new arrival calmed the terror of Ma- 
dame Foufliguine and her husband. 

She was a sturdy woman, of moderate 
height, and her round head was ornamented 
with a quantity of little braids, and sur- 
mounted by an azure-blue hat, which she ar- 
ranged every few moments. The retrousse 
nose of the lady, red and swollen, clearly 
showed that she had been lately crying. 

“ Pardon me, madame ; it is possible that I 
have disturbed you,” said the lady, with a 
melancholy voice, placing her hand on her 
ample bosom and stifling a sigh. 

“ Not at all; the place is free,” said Sophia 
Petrovna. 

The lady stifled another sigh and sat down, 
closed her eyes gently, and drooped her head 
with such an unhappy air that Sophia Pe- 
trovna made a sign to her husband, wishing 
to inspire him with commiseration for this 
unfortunate. A jolt of the wagon forced the 
lady to open her eyes. What was the aston- 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


31 


ishment of Sophia Petrovna, when, casting a 
look at the stranger, she perceived that all 
signs of sorrow had disappeared from her 
face. Her nose was elevated gayly in the air, 
her mouth was smiling, and her eyes spark- 
ling amiably. 

“ You are going to St. Petersburg ? ” she 
asked, with an irresistible smile. 

“Yes.” 

“ I also. Is that your husband ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Charmed to make your acquaintance. 
Excuse me, sir, but you have such an ami- 
able face; so agreeable,” said the lady radi- 
antly. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch blushed a little, and 
raised his hat. 

“ And those are your children ? ” she con- 
tinued. 

“ Yes, madame.” 

“ Delicious creatures ! I have a passion 
for children. Perhaps it is because I am a 
mother myself.” 

Her face suddenly lost its expression of 


32 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


gayety, and she raised her eyes toward 
heaven. 

“ But I am an unhappy mother ! Yes, I am 
unhappy. They have separated me from my 
little ones.” 

The lady plunged her hand in her pocket 
and drew out a handkerchief of doubtful 
color. 

“Yes, they have separated me from my 
children. That sounds impossible to you, 
does it not ? But it is true. Yes, you see 
before you a most unhappy woman.” She 
raised the handkerchief to her eyes and 
began to weep noisily. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch and his wife ex- 
changed a look ; the latter tried to console 
the lady, who, letting her handkerchief fall 
in her lap, regarded the Foufliguines fix- 
edly for several moments, then seized each 
of them by the hand. 

“ Oh, I thank you— I thank you ! ” she 
cried. “ You are noble hearts — superior be- 
ings ! ” 

She stuffed her handkerchief back in her 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


n 

pocket and remained some moments silent, 
lier hands crossed on lier breast and her bead 
bowed. 

“ All ! ah ! ” she sighed suddenly. “ Doubt- 
less my sighs surprise you. You ask your- 
selves why does she sigh ? Do you not ? ” 
turning toward Foufliguine. 

“ Why, no, madarne,” Foufliguine responded. 
“ Yes, I sigh — I sigh, it is true — I sigh from 
pain. I am forced to sigh,” said the lady. 
“ And why should I not sigh ? Can I stop ? 
Oh, no, that would be altogether impossible ! 
But I will tell you everything. Yes, I will 
tell you everything. Why should I hide it ? 
Who in this world has not had passions ? 
You will understand me, my heart above all. 
Something tells me that you are superior be- 
ings. Am I not riorht ? ” she murmured, seiz- 
iim again the hands of the Fouflmuines. 

o o o 

The Foufliguines stammered some unintel- 
ligible words. 

“ Why, yes, yes — I know,” continued the 
lady, with emotion, whose tongue seemed to 
move more rapidly as the train gained head- 


34 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


way ; “ a year ago, about this time, I traveled 

with a young man in this same wagon ” 

She lowered her eyes a moment, with a con- 
fused air, then raised them and continued 
briskly : 

“ You cannot imagine what an extraordi- 
nary young man lie was. Of the most exqui- 
site nature, the most delicate. He came of a 
very good family ; but his relations ! — oh, his 
relations ! In one word, he possessed the most 
lofty sentiments ; so lofty that, for an exam- 
ple,” — she touched the hand of Fouhiguine 
with her own ,— 1 u if you did him the honor to 
invite him to spend the evening with you, and 
he desired very much to go — well, if he had 
so much as a stain on his pantaloons, he 
would not go for the world ! No, not for the 
world ! There was an example ! We were 
traveling, he and I, in the same wagon. Our 

situation would not permit us ” Here the 

lady lowered her eyes with a confused air. 
“ Yes, our situations forced us to mix with 
the people. I could not allow myself to look 
at him throughout the voyage. Well, would 


TEE GRUEL CITY. 


35 


you believe it? He suffered. He suffered 
profoundly. I saw it — and then my heart 
told me that he suffered. Because, you can- 
not imagine what a superior and aristocratic 
nature was his. Yes, I have- suffered ; I have 
suffered very much ; I have supported a great 
deal in this world. But who has not been 
the plaything of the passions ? Who has 
not given free flight to the hopes of his 
heart ? Very well ! This monster, this de- 
graded being — oh, it was terrible ! You 
see before you a most unhappy victim,” 
she .concluded, raising her handkerchief to 
her eyes, and hiding her face, inundated 
with tears. 

“ Is this about the young man ? ” Foufli- 
guine decided to ask. 

“ Oh, no ! Oh, no ! not him,” she replied 
warmly. “ Oh, he was a superior being ! 1 

speak of the other. Of a degraded creature. 
An infamous old man who reduced me to 
despair. You can appreciate that a man like 
that was incapable of understanding me. 
Me, a woman — a superior being — a noble 


36 


THE GRULL CITY. 


being — could lie understand me ! No, lie 
could not ! He could not ! ” 

Sophia Petrovna cast an unquiet glance 
around her. The lady’s story had begun to 
excite the curiosity of the other passengers. 
Some had drawn nearer. 

“ Try to speak in a lower voice, inadame, in 
the name of Heaven,” remarked Nikolai Step- 
anovitch, with all the delicacy possible. 

“ Ah, pardon me, dear sir ! ” she cried, seiz- 
ing his hand and pressing it. “ Pardon me ! I 
was carried away by my emotions. But judge 
for yourself. How could I speak of such 
things without being borne away? I should 
be a being without a heart.” 

She lowered her voice and addressed her 
neighbors. “Just imagine,” she continued. 
“ While X was traveling with that young 
man,” in pronouncing the words, she fixed 
her eyes on the fioor, “this monster, this 
degraded creature of whom I speak, had the 
infamy to open my trunk ; it contained some 
letters. Horrible, was it not ? Yes, horrible ! 
I arrived at the house. It was before dinner. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


3*7 


I wished to embrace my children. He re- 
pulsed me — yes, he repulsed me. He would 
not permit me to clasp those innocent angels 
to my bosom,” said the lady, returning again 
to her handkerchief. 

She calmed herself in a few moments and 
continued with fresh energy : 

“ We placed ourselves at the table. Un- 
til that moment, I had supported every- 
thing — I did not say a single word. At din- 
ner some one pronounced the name of that 
young man. At once, I saw that monster 
pick up a decanter and hurl it at my head ! 
Judge for yourself my position,” cried the 
lady, without paying any attention to the 
astonished looks of the other travelers. 

“ Yes ! try and judge my position. I, — a 
woman and a noble being, a person well 
brought up, — must I support such an insult ? 
I have supported much more than that. Per- 
haps it was his right; but in that case it 
was not alone the woman that he wounded, 
but also the mother, and I could not support 
that. The feeling was stronger than I. I 


38 


TIIE CRUEL CITY. 


fouglit. I seized a glass and flung it at 
his head. I looked. Oh, horror ! blood ! 
blood ! ” 

The lady threw herself back, making fran- 
tic gestures with her hands. 

“ Blood! Then I forgot everything. I 
threw myself upon him, I took a piece of 
copper out of my pocket and laid it on the 
place ; he repulsed me, he tore himself away 
from me. I paid no attention. I continued 
to hold the piece of copper. At last — but 
here we are at the station. I am enchanted ! 
I must go out ! I have need of air ; of air,” 
she said, drawing on her cloak and springing 
upon the platform. 

“ What a pity ! Really, what a pity ! ” 
said a merchant, rising. “They ought to 
have slapped her well. That would have 
been much better. But truly, to throw a de- 
canter at a woman’s head — that was not 
right.” 

Sophia Petrovna pulled her hat down 
over her eyes and turned toward her hus- 
band. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


39 


“ Oh, merciful God ! ” she said, bowing her 
head. “ They have heard everything.” 

The Foufliguines decided not to leave the 
car, fearing that the lady would continue her 
history on the platform before all the people. 
Meanwhile they followed her with their eyes. 
They saw the lady ask a passer-by, with a 
hesitating and melancholy air, permission to 
light her cigarette. Then, becoming calmer, 
she began to gesticulate in front of him. Lit- 
tle by little the crowd separated her from 
the Foufliguines and she disappeared. The 
bell rang, the car filled up again, but the 
lady did not come back. The conductor 
shut the door and the locomotive whistled. 

“ Oh, dear me ! where is that lady ? she will 
miss the train,” said Sophia Petrovna, though 
she was not sorry for the other’s absence. 

“ She has entered another wa^on.” 

“ Why no, why no ! There she is ! ” cried 
Sophia Petrovna, pointing out the lady, who 
was running the length of the platform, 
swinging her arms and screaming, “ Stop ! 
stop ! ” 


40 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


But tlie trail/ gained headway. Here 
is the tank where they take in water, here 
the shed where the wood is stored, then the 
long, level fields. The lady had disappeared 
from view. 

Toward nine o’clock the Foufiiguines 
took their tea, installing themselves modestly 
in a corner, and when they returned to the 
car began their preparations for the night. 

They were both of them very much fa- 
tigued. A semi-obscurity reigned in the com- 
partment and invited repose. As for Lecha 
and Pacha, they had been sleeping for some 
time. Having arranged the children on the 
floor, Nikolai Stepan ovitch squeezed himself 
into a corner, telling his wife to place her feet 
under the seat and rest her head on his 
shoulder. The position was not comfortable 
for him or for her, but they closed their eyes 
and tried to sleep, after the example of the 
other travelers, who had been snoring for the 
past ten minutes. 

Suddenly, at the other end of the car, cries 
were heard, accompanied by profanity. 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


41 


Sophia Petrovna and her husband raised 
their heads, but the obscurity was so profound 
that they could distingush nothing. 

“ Gentlemen,” cried a voice, which they 
recognized as belonging to the unsupportable 
Karpenko, “ I call you as witnesses that I 
have not touched him with the tip of my finger. 
I was quietly sleeping, as a gentleman should, 
when suddenly he seized me by the nose. 
Shall I permit a German to take me by the 
nose ? Never ! I call on you all. My wife 
may take me by the nose, but a German — 
never ! I will not permit it. I will break 
his head ! ” 

“ Conductor ! conductor ! ” cried several 
voices. 

Sophia Petrovna and her husband closed 
their eyes and tried to go to sleep. Several 
minutes later they heard a terrible tumult in 
which they distinguished the vome of the 
conductor and protestations from Karpenko, 
whom they were putting out of the car. 

The locomotive blew its whistle, the bell 
rang, and all was plunged again in silence. 


CHAPTER II. 


ARRIVAL — FIRST IMPRESSIONS. 

Nine o’clock in tlie morning. Animation 
reigned in .our third-class wagon. Most of 
the travelers had left their seats. Some 
were smoothing out the creases in their over- 
coats, others arranged their handkerchiefs on 
their heads. 

A merchant, large and fat, combed his beard 
with a comb he had drawn out of his left 
boot. 

An officer was arranging his hair before a 
mirror so microscopic that it only reflected an 
eye and an ear at the same time, causing him 
to execute astonishing maneuvers with his 
head. Most of the travelers had already 
made their toilets, and were ranged along the 
windows to see the first signs of St. Peters- 
burg. 

The Foufliguines were among the latter. 

42 


THE CREEL CITY. 


43 


Each wore a troubled look. They had that 
feeling which every one experiences when 
approaching a great capital for the first 
time. 

“ There is one thing that disquiets me,” 
said Sophia Petrovna, “ Has your nephew 
received our letter ? ” 

“ Coco ? Oh, certainly ! ” replied her hus- 
band. “ You remember I wrote to him the 
day after I received his letter. I am sure he 
will be waiting for us at the station. I am 
glad I told him not to tell any one of our 
arrival. Neither my brother Arkadii, nor 
your cousin, nor her husband.” 

“ You did well, because ” 

“ I know what you wish to say,” continued 
Nikolai Stepanovitcli, with vivacity. “ But I 
have already thought that over; as soon as 
we arrive we will let the other travelers get- 
out first, then we will pass through all the 
cars until we arrive in the first-class, where 
we can descend. No one will know that we 
have traveled in this miserable third! Do 
you understand me ? ” 


44 


TUE GRUEL CITY. 


“ Yes, perfectly. Thanks ! ” with a grateful 
look. 

Seven minutes later the train entered the 
somber arches of the station and stopped. 

Nikolai Stepan ovitcli set his plan in exe- 
cution — allowed the others to pass, and, fol- 
lowed by his family, filed through the cars 
until the “ first-class ” was reached. 

There lie descended to the platform, but 
Sophia Petrovna remained several seconds 
hesitating. Those who passed might admire 
a pretty woman in a velvet cloak and rose- 
colored hat, who looked proudly around her, 
as if she did not wish to mingle with the 
crowd. 

“ Here he is ! ” suddenly cried Nikolai 
Stepanovitch. 

“ My uncle ! ” responded a voice in the 
crowd. 

“ Coco ! ” exclaimed the other, throwing 
himself on the neck of his nephew. “ But 
where is my wife ? Ah, there she is ! Sophia ! 
Sophia ! Permit me, dearest, to present my 
nephew. Ah ! here, my dear friend, ar£ my 


TEE CRUEL CITY. 


45 


little children, Pauline and Leon, or, as 
we call them by preference, Lecha and 
Pacha.” 

“ Heaven, how he has grown ! How he 
has grown ! ” cried Nikolai Stepanovitch, 
with an air of tenderness. 

“ If he has grown, what must he have been 
before,” Sophia Petrovna asked herself in- 
voluntarily. 

She saw before her a young man of nine- 
teen, so small and slight that he might have 
been taken for a child, if his handsome face, 
blotched with red, had not borne signs of 
fatigue and precocious maturity. 

He had the appearance of a little rooster 
in his elegant costume and high-heeled boots, 
his hat tipped on one side, and his quick, 
nervous movements. 

Having kissed the hand of his aunt, Coco 
lifted up successively Lecha and Pacha and 
kissed them on the cheeks. 

He did this more to show that in spite of 
his size he was able to lift a hundred pounds, 
than from any sentiment of tenderness. 


46 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


“Well, so you have finally arrived,” said 
Svistcheff. 

His voice was cracked like that of a person 
who had been on a spree for several days in 
succession. 

“ Enchanted to make your acquaintance — 
Look out ! Ass ! Animal ! ” Coco cried 
suddenly as a man just missed knocking his 
aunt over with a trunk. “ Ass ! Animal ! ” 

“ Who ? ” asked the man with the trunk. 

“ I’ll show you very soon,” cried Coco, 
purple with anger, turning on his heels. 

“ Great heavens ! Pardon, sir. Coco, do 
stop, pardon, sir ! ” 

“ That’s it, pardon ! ” cried the man with the 
trunk, moving off. 

“ Excuse me, aunt,” said young Svistcheff, 
addressing the frightened Sophia Petrovna. 
“But acknowledge yourself that it was im- 
possible not to make him feel his impolite- 
ness. Well, hurry and let me have your 
baggage checks. What ! only three ? Well, 
let us go and get them. You, aunt, can 
remain here with the children. We will 


THE CRUEL CITY \ 


47 


soon be back,” concluded Svistcheff, castiug a 
look around him, which seemed to say that 
he had taken this lady under his protection 
and that they should answer to him if they 
failed to respect her. 

“ Softly, softly, Coco ! What a fever ! 
Softly ! ” repeated Nikolai Stepan ovitch, try- 
ing to hold back his nephew, who without 
the slightest ceremony was pushing every one 
he encountered. 

“ Where are your trunks ? I don’t know ! 
This mob prevents us from seeing the bag- 
gage. Will you move on ? Get along ! 
Which is your trunk ? That yellow one tied 
with a cord ? Eh, soldier ! give us that 
trunk. Well ? Give it to us right away ! ” 

“ You have plenty of time ! ” 

“ What ? What do you say ? Just wait 
a moment ” 

u Coco, Coco ! In the name of Heaven 
what are you doiug ? ” cried the uncle, try- 
ing to restrain his nephew, who sought to 
climb over the railing and punish the inso- 
lence. 


48 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


“ We are not pressed for time ! Do stop ! 
Mercy, what a heat you are in ! ” 

But all the persuasion of the uncle would 
probably not have sufficed, if at that mo- 
ment the soldiers had not appeared with the 
trunks on their shoulders. 

“ This way, this way ! ” cried Coco, with 
an imperious gesture toward the place where 
Sophia Petrovna was seated, and then dis- 
appeared to look for a carriage. He returned 
in a few moments, clicking his heels on the 
pavement. 

“ Here I am,” he said, placing himself be- 
fore his uncle and aunt. “ Pardon me for 
being so long. I could not help stopping to 
say a few words to Katerina Mikhailovna, 
one of our most charming ladies of the demi- 
monde. 

“Well, let us move on. You are tired and 
have need of repose. Eh ! soldiers, hurry 
and carry those trunks to the carriage,” 
stamping with his heels. He offered his arm 
gracefully to his aunt and, followed by Fou- 


THE GRUEL CITY. \ 


49 


fliguine and the children, they entered the 
first carriage. 

“ To the Grand Morskaia,” cried Coco, 
“ and quickly ! Don’t lose sight of the other 
carriage.” 

“ I must thank you for doing what I 
asked,” said Nikolai Stepanovitch as soon as 
they moved away. “I wanted to surprise 
my brother Arkadii, and on the other hand I 
did not wish to disturb Cousin Mirzoeff. 
That is why I begged you to tell no one of 
the day of our arrival.” 

“ Ha, ha, ha ! You are delightful ! How 
could I tell them when it is a year since I 
have set eyes on either ? ” 

“ How is that ? ” 

“ Very simple ! Uncle Arkadii is not so 
bad, but his wdfe is nothing but a turkey. 
Besides, they irritate me, both of them ! ” 

“Look here, my boy, you oughtn’t speak in 
this way.” 

“ And why not ? Just because they are 
my uncle and my aunt? I speak what I 


50 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


think ; with yon it’s another thing. I love 
yon, but they ! They weary me, so what else 
can I do but keep away from them ? As for 
the Mirzoeffs, she, that is to say Alexandra 
Semenovna, is a pretty person. Such hair 
and such a foot ! — which you know is one of 
the principal charms in a woman. Of course, 
the soul, the heart! But one never sees 
the soul or the heart ; while the foot one can 
see very well. You, my aunt, have a charm- 
ing foot ! I saw that already, when we came 
down the stairs at the station,” returned 
Coco, without perceiving that Sophia Pe- 
trovna’s face was troubled and that his uncle 
was making big eyes. “ Mirzoeff himself is 
an animal; a rat, simply. I told him so to 
his face. Just imagine this animal ! ” 

“ Coco, Coco ! ” said Nikolai Stepanovitch, 
in a voice full of reproach. 

“ Why, what are you astonished at ? I 
sw r ear to you that I told him that to his face. 
He commenced by moralizing with me, and I 
responded, 1 Rat that you are,’ and after that 
he never wanted to see me. Just as if I 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


51 


wanted to. It is a pity that I cannot see her, 
because truly she was pretty. That is my 
only regret. But God bless us, can we talk of 
such things when we are traversing the Nev- 
sky. What a remarkable street, is it not ? 
Here is the Wladimerskaia. You see that 
house ? That is the Hotel Moscow. The 
table is bad, the wine detestable, but the 
rooms are remarkable ! And that house on 
the right, do you see it, Aunt ? It recalls the 

days of my youth Oh ! my youth, oh ! 

my innocence, as a poet says. That was in the 
epoch when I believed in love. 

“ Here is the Alexander Theater, and there 
is the street of Love, but it is a long time 
since I took any interest in things theatrical, 
nor do I find any interest in the streets. But 
here is a glove store ; that is another thing. I 
can tell you that there is there a certain Mile. 
Clare ! She is simply a bonbon of sugar and 
cream, and not a woman ! Now, you provin- 
cial people, I hear, are terrible eaters ! I beg 
you to examine this gastronomic emporium 
known under the name of the Restaurant Mil- 


52 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


rontine. We roust go there some time just 
to eat some oysters and drink Chambertin. 
Aunt, do you like oysters?” he demanded 
suddenly, caressing a shadow of a mustache 
on his upper lip. 

Sophia Petrovna blushed and looked at her 
husband. 

“ Yes. Why not ? Hum ! hum ! ” mur- 
mured Nikolai Stepanovitch, opening his eyes 
wider and wider. 

“ Well, Aunt, I will invite you in advance. 
Good-day, Fiflou ! ” he cried, poking his head 
out from the carriage and throwing a kiss to 
a big fat man who passed. “ That’s Fillou, a 
cafe keeper where we unite sometimes for de- 
jeuner \ He is known for his extraordinary 
Madeira and for his cognac. You can’t find 
any better in all St. Petersburg. I’ll tell you 
that ! ” 

“ My ! this boy knows everything ! Where 
did you find the time to learn all these 
things ? ” 

“ Ha, ha, ha ! ” laughed Coco, very much 
flattered by the remark. “ Why, how could I 


illE GRUEL CITY. 


53 


avoid knowing? I have lived, I have not 
vegetated ! Ah ! here is the Grand Morskaia. 
Eh ! ” sticking his head out of the door, “ stop 
at the second entrance. Will you stop, brig- 
and, when I tell you,” getting angry, and 
opening the door and stepping out on the 
pavement. 

This done, Coco led his relatives into the 
rich ante-chamber of the hotel filled with 
flowers. At that moment a servant attired 
in black, with a white cravat, appeared on the 
stairs. 

“All the rooms are occupied,” he said re- 
spectfully. 

Coco allowed him to descend and then, look- 
ing him straight in the eyes, said : 

“ Imbecile ! ” 

“ As you please, sir ; but there are no more 
rooms.” 

“ Get out ! ” cried Coco, stamping his foot. 

“What an animal!” addressing his uncle 
and aunt, who remained stupefied. 

After the first servant, two others ap- 
peared. 


54 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


“ You wish rooms, sir?” they asked to- 
gether. “ There are none.” 

“ You are all mad animals ! ” cried Coco, 
flaming up like saltpeter touched oft' by a 
match. 

“ Here, you fellows,” addressing the coach- 
men, “ take the trunks and go up ” 

“ We should be happy to oblige you, sir,” 
began the servant, “ but every room is occu- 
pied.” 

“ AY ell, hurry up ! ” cried Coco to the coach- 
men. 

The coachmen shouldered the trunks and 
advanced several paces, but the servants 
barred their way. 

“ Wha-a-at ! ” cried Coco, preparing to 
throw himself in front. But Nikolai Stepan- 
ovitch held him back by force. 

“ Enough, my friend,” he said gently. “ It 
is disagreeable. But perhaps they really 
have no rooms. Why do you get so ex- 
cited?” 

“ Call the manager,” cried Coco, calming 
himself, but rising on his high heels. Hardly 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


55 


had lie pronounced these words when the 
manager presented himself, a tall, fat man 
clad in black with a white cravat. Ilis ap- 
parition, far from soothing young Svistclieff, 
only enraged him the more. 

“ Ho you know me ? ” he asked, placing his 
hands behind his back and trying to look the 
manager in the face, which was a difficult 
undertaking, as he only came up to the 
other’s stomach. “ I demand, do you know 
me ? ” 

“ Certainly, sir!” replied the manager, in a 
powerful voice. “ You took the rooms last 
week, but really they are occupied.” 

“How could you rent them after my 
orders ? ” twisting around the manager like a 
serpent at the base of a rock. 

“ The time was up last night. So we gave 
the rooms to others.” 

“ Gang of rogues ! ” 

“ Try, sir, to be a little more polite ! ” 

“ Coco, in the name of Heaven,” cried Nik- 
olai Stepanovitch, whose wife supplicated him 
to leave the hotel at once. 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


“ We are going right away. Don’t say any 
more, I beg of you.” 

A tumult arose on the stairs ; above the 
noise rose the falsetto voice of Coco who, 
thanks to his energy, was becoming hoarse. 

“ What’s the matter ? ” cried the proprietor 
of the hotel, a Frenchman, very correctly 
dressed, with gray hair, who came running. 

“ It is this, that you are a scamp and that 
I shall thrash you all ! ” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch became more and 
more troubled. Nikolai Stepanovitch did 
nothing but go up the stairs and then come 
down toward his trunks. Sophia Petrovna 
consoled the children, who, frightened by the 
scene, were sobbing. 

The voice reached the hall above, and from 
time to time the word “ police ” could be 
heaid. 

“ I shall call for the police myself,” howled 
young Svistcheff, who had almost lost his 
voice. 

During this time, Nikolai Stepanovitch had 
gathered up his bags and, preceded by the 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


57 


coachmen with the trunks, directed his way 
toward the entrance. 

“Let us go to the police,” said Coco, run- 
ning forward. “Such things are unpardon- 
able ! Tliey are brigands ! You, my aunt, 
be not worried. They shall all be punished. 
Give me your arm. Hey ! over there ! 
Drive madame to the Hotel de Paris. We 
will follow immediately. It is quite near,” 
and young Svistcheff followed his relatives 
out on the sidewalk. 

Having installed his wife in the carriage, 
Nikolai Stepanovitch cast her a look as if 
they were separating for life. Coco took his 
uncle’s arm and led him off. 

“ You cannot imagine how disagreeable that 
scene was to me,” said the uncle in a troubled 
voice. 

“ Why, that is nothing ! It happens every 
day. Acknowledge yourself that it is right 
to teach such a mob a lesson ? Calm yourself, 
I beg you, dear uncle.” 

But Stepanovitch could not be calm, and 
begged his nephew not to make another row. 


58 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


“ Ah, uncle, you have spoilt the whole af- 
fair,” said the little Svistcheff discontentedly. 
“We ought to go to the chief of police, and 
you would see how things would be arranged. 
They are not permitted to behave like that ! 
This mob should be taught how to conduct 
themselves.” 

“Oh, I beg you will not,” interrupted 
Nikolai Stepanovitch, in a frightened voice. 
“Let be as it is. Where is the Hotel de 
Paris ? On which side shall we go ? Are 
you coming with me ? ” in a tone of inde- 
cision. 

“ No, uncle ; excuse me to my aunt. It is 
impossible for me to go with you ; still, let me 
see what time it is,” drawing out his watch 
with a busy air. 

The heart of Nikolai Stepanovitch was dis- 
turbed anew. 

“ What ! it is already quarter-past eleven. 
No, it is impossible, uncle. I must go to 
Tzarskoie, and the train leaves at noon. They 
are going to have a trial race with three 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


59 


horses, and I positively promised Kokoneff 
to assist his troika. Don’t forget to excuse 
me to my aunt. I shall surely come to see 
you about ten o’clock. Go straight, then 
turn to the right, into the Little Morskaia, 
the third house from the corner. All right — 
to-night, eh?” 

“ Ye-e-s,” murmured the uncle with diffi- 
culty, taking his hand. 

“ Adieu,” cried Coco. 

He threw himself into the first carriage, 
and calling to the coachman to hurry, dis- 
appeared immediately. 

“ Oh, it is terrible ! It is really terrible ! ” 
murmured Nikolai Stepanovitcli, following 
the directions indicated. “ I will escape that 
gentleman. I will absolutely evade him. 
Coco ; ai, ai, ai. May God bless him ! He 
is the sou of my sister, but I must take care 
of my skin. With him I risk losing it. No ! 
decidedly I must fiee from him.” 

Reflecting thus, Nikolai Stepanovitck en- 
tered the thiid house in the Little Mors- 


60 


TEE GRUEL CITY. 


kaia, and meeting a servant lie asked him if 
Madame Foufliguine was stopping there. 

“ Number three,” said the servant. “ This 
way, sir.” 

“ Thank God ! Ouf ! ” cried Nikolai Step- 
anovitch, mounting the stairs rapidly. 


CHAPTEE III. 


IN WHICH ARKADII IVANOVITCH PIGOUNOFF 
AND IIIS FAMILY APPEAR. 

Sophia Petrovna liad chosen handsome 
apartments on the first floor, consisting of an 
ante-chamber and three rooms whose windows 
overlooked the Little Morskaia. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch, when he examined 
his new quarters, was enthusiastic. Only he 
protested energetically against the price, 
which appeared monstrous to him, and which 
was not at all in keeping with the real state 
of their finances. 

After a light dejeuner Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch wished to go and see his brother Arkadii 
in company with his entire family. But 
Sophia Petrovna persuaded him to put off 
his visit until the morrow. 

The pretty eyes of his wife, as well as her 
61 


62 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


face, showed traces of great fatigue. She did 
not wish to show herself to her new relative 
in that condition, she said. They must also 
think of the children, who had slept badly ; 
and then the clothes had been terribly mussed 
in the trunks. A day was necessary to put 
them in order. 

“ As for you,” said Sophia Petrovna, pass- 
ing to her husband, “ confess that you have 
not the smallest bone in your body that does 
not need rest.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch was forced to ac- 
knowledge that nothing was more true. The 
rest of the day was devoted to repose. To- 
ward seven o’clock in the evening the family 
woke up and called for tea. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch wrote a line to his 
brother to announce his arrival. 

“To-morrow morning you will carry this 
letter to its address,” he said to his servant, 
who entered to serve the tea. “ A gentleman 
may come here to-night about ten o’clock to 
see me. Tell him that we have all gone 
out — that we have gone to my brother’s, 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


G3 


where we shall remain until one or two 
o’clock in the morning.” 

“ But not before eleven o’clock,” inter- 
rupted Sophia Petrovna, hoping to be out of 
the hotel at that time. 

Half an hour later Nikolai Stepan ovitch, 
his wife, and his children were sleeping the 
sleep of the just. 

It was eight o’clock in the morning when 
the head of the family rang the bell. All 
the commissions he had given the night 
before to the domestic had been executed. 
The young man had appeared at midnight, 
but he had not been permitted to go upstairs. 
He was told to call in the morning after 
eleven o’clock. The letter had been de- 
livered at daybreak at the address. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch paid the servant, and 
calling for some hot water installed liimselt 
in the third room and began to shave him- 
self. Sophia Petrovna occupied herself over 
the toilet of Lecha and Pacha. 

Hardly had Nikolai Stepanovitch shaved 
his right cheek and was spreading lather 


64 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


over tlie rest, when he heard a loud excla- 
mation in the other rooms, followed by the 
clatter of a dozen feet and sonorous kisses. 

Divining what was going on Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch hastened to lay down his razor, but 
he had not time to seize a towel and wipe 
his cheek before the door opened and he 
found himself in the arms of his brother. 

“ Arkadii ! Arkadii ! ” he cried, trying to 
present the shaven side of his face. 

“ Nikolai ! My brother, is it really you ? 
Is it you that I embrace ? ” repeated his 
brother in a broken voice. 

In his enthusiasm he made no distinction 
between his brother’s cheeks, kissing first one 
and then the other. In a moment one of the 
enormous whiskers of Pigounoff was com- 
pletely covered with lather, but he perceived 
nothing and continued to hold his brother in 
his arms and kiss him ardently and tenderly. 

To look at Arkadii Pigounoff you would 
never imagine him capable of such a treasury 
of tenderness. No portrait of an Italian 
bandit by Salvator Rosa could give an idea 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


G5 


of Pigounoff, who was now past his fortieth 
year. Imagine a dark brown face heavily 
framed by a mop of hair, black as ebony, 
frizzed and curled. Immense black whiskers, 
shaped like a fan ; a beard and mustache that 
resembled a cascade. In the midst of this 
forest appeared a hooked nose and eyes half 
hidden by heavy lids. We cannot describe 
the expression of his eyes, because at this 
moment they were inundated with tears that 
rolled down his cheeks and dripped through 
his whiskers. 

The physiognomy of Pigounoff harmonized 
remarkably with his costume, composed of a 
dark brown coat, very threadbare pantaloons, 
which almost covered his dusty boots, and a 
satin cravat, which allowed us to see a rather 
dubious shirt. In spite of the season, Pigou- 
noff held in his hand a velvet cap, which had 
left traces of lint, not only on his head, but on 
everything it touched. 

His tears and tenderness were astonishing, 
considered that it was ten years since he had 
seen his brother, and had only written once. 


66 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


But one must first know Arkadii Ivanovitch 
before passing judgment. There was proba- 
bly no other human being in the entire uni- 
verse whose outward appearance was so much 
in disaccord with the qualities of his soul. 
With the outward appearance of a bandit, 
Pigounoff concealed the soul of a sparrow, 
and a heart tender, impressionable, and even 
poetic. 

He could not speak of a beautiful picture, 
a statue, a romance, or a poem, without his 
nostrils beginning to dilate, and his eyes 
filling iip with tears. For five or six years, 
since his property had been sold for debts, 
he had found no occupation ; a terrible 
melancholy oppressed him. The continual 
rebuffs which he received had affected his 
nerves, and without the slightest reason he 
would give way to tears. His children and his 
wife, who urged him to find some occupation, 
sought in vain to distract him. He passed 
his days in complaining bitterly over his 
broken hopes (what were his hopes no one 
was ever able to discover); or when he found 


7 HE CRUEL CITY. 


G7 

a company of artists in a restaurant, lie mur- 
mured against tlie cold climate, tlie cold nature 
of his country, the prosaic life which he led. 
Arkadii Ivanovitch Pigounoff only dreamed 
of the land of Michael Angelo. 

The desire to refresh himself with the 
sight of the Vatican, or the Monte Pincio, 
was often so strong that sometimes he aban- 
doned his wife and children and set out for 
the land of his dreams. But the passion- 
ate nature of Arkadii Pigounoff always pre- 
vented him from gaining the goal of his 
desires. 

Eight or ten days after his disappearance 
they always found him in some wine cellar; 
he was never known to go farther than 
Peterhoff — not only without the means of 
continuing his voyage, but not a kopeck to 
pay the wine-seller and return to St. Peters- 
burg. 

At such times some friend always appeared 
to draw him out of his predicament. Then he 
would hurry to his home, throw himself at his 
wife’s feet, enumerate all her virtues to her 


68 


THE CRUEL CITY \ 


and all his vices to himself, demand pardon of 
each of his children while kneeling to each 
one separately, call himself a monster, and 
tear his hair and beat his breast with his lists ; 
then become calmer. After passing several 
days dangling his wife on one knee and his 
children on the other, clasping each to his bo- 
som, saying that he was in Paradise and that 
he was tasting celestial happiness, without 
any apparent reason, he would suddenly fall 
into his habitual melancholy. 

As soon as he found himself in possession 
of twenty, or even ten rubles, he disappeared 
again, and at the end of two or three days he 
turned up in some' restaurant without any 
money to continue his journey to Pome. 

Now we will follow him again in No. 3 of 
the Hotel de Paris. 

Arkadii Ivanovitcli still continued to em- 
brace his brother, whom he had not seen for 
such a long time. He held him still in his 
arms, pressing him to his bosom, and con- 
tinued to shed tears ! 

“ Pardon me ; but I am all wet,” said Pig- 


THE CRUEL CITY, 


69 


ounoff, finally, letting go of Nikolai Stepano- 
vitcli, and drying liis eyes. “ But I could not 
control myself ; I was so profoundly moved. 
Just imagine, I was sleeping in my bed when 
they brought in your letter ! I opened it ; 
you had arrived ! I was so upset that my 
nidotchlca — oh, great heavens ! what am I 
thinking about ? My wife, my children are 
all here. They threw themselves upon me 
when they heard that you had arrived. They 
are burning to make your acquaintance. 
Hurry, hurry ! ” dragging his brother toward 
the door. 

“ I am not shaved — only one of my cheeks ! 
I am in my dressing-gown ! ” said Nikolai 
Stepanovitch, defending himself. 

“ What ? Listen, my brother ! Do you 
wish to offend me ? Do you wish to offend 
her also ? ” cried Pigounoff, in an injured tone. 
“ You must not stand on ceremony with us.” 

“Not at all. But, at least let me put on 
this coat ! ” 

“ Not for the world ! Once for all, I beg 
you to lay aside all these Jeremiads. My 


70 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


nidotclika does not like it ; not only here, but 
when you come to see us. I beg you to wear 
your dressing-gown.” 

“ Let me at least button it ! ” 

“ Not for the world ! ” he interrupted, and 
almost lifting his brother in his arms, he 
dragged him into the next room, where So- 
phia Petrovna was installed with her sister- 
in-law and the children. 

Nikolai Stepanovitcli saw a person mea- 
ger, pale, with yellow cheek-bones and faded 
eyes. A mantle, grown yellow with age, 
draped her like a manikin. She was so fee- 
ble that it was with difficulty that she rose 
when he entered. 

Pigounoff hastened to lift her, and fearing 
lest she might faint, he threw her on the 
breast of his brother, placing his arm around 
her neck for support. After that, he lifted 
Vassia, Polinik, and Sonia. Apollon, who 
was only three months old, had been aban- 
doned alone in the house, as no nurse would 
serve without being paid. 

He threw the whole three children on 


THE GllUEL CITY. 


71 


Foufliguine ; the sight of this scene was too 
much for Pigounoff. 

“ Brother, brother ! ” he cried, sobbing, and 
opening his arms he embraced his wife, his 
children, and his brother at the same time. 

Sophia Petrovna regarded this perform- 
ance with a strange smile. 

The face of her sister-in-law, and above all 
the yellow cloak of Madame Pigounoff (nee 
Baronne Laste), the coat and worn-out 
trousers of Arkadii astonished and stupefied 
her. 

Arkadii Ivanovitch did not leave her long 
to her reflections. He was already beside 
her, kissing her hands, calling her his dear 
sister-in-law, and begging her to love him as 
her own brother. Then it was the turn for 
the children ; he took Lecha and Pacha on 
his knee. 

“This is the moment of which I have 
dreamed for a long time. Ah, blessed mo- 
ment ! Oh, cherished moment,” cried Pigou- 
noff in a tender voice, while the servant 
arranged the table for the tea, “ I desire, I 


72 THE GRUEL CITY. 

pray Heaven, that these ties shall unite us. 
Nikolai, let us live together, as it becomes 
brothers and sisters. Yes, let us live to- 
gether. I hope, I am convinced that you 
will find among us that peace which you 
have sought for in vain — which ” 

“ You are searching for something, my 
brother ? ” asked Sophia Petrovna, who saw 
Pigounoff casting his eyes here and there 
about the ceiling. 

“I am looking for the rum, my sister. I 
am in the habit — you know — in the morning.” 

Sophia Petrovna ordered them to bring 
some rum. 

“ No, thanks, brother ; I always drink it 
with cream,” said Nikolai Stepanovitch, stop- 
ping his brother from pouring some in his cup 
“I seldom drink strong liquors — they are 
bad for me.” 

“ You hear, Arkadii ? They are bad for 
you,” said the wife of Pigounoff, in a feeble 
voice. u I tell you every day that they do 
you harm.” 

. “ My dear soul, my angel, permit me — -I 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


73 


only take it for the taste — the aroma,” 
tenderly replied Pigounoff, pouring out some 
more in his cup. 

He took a gulp of tea and poured in some 
more rum. 

“ Ho you know, my friends — do you 
know, this is really one of the happiest days 
in my life. As if it were made expressly for 
me ; everything seems to smile. First, you 
arrived — then nidotclika had the toothache. 
Her pain passed away suddenly, as if by 
enchantment. Polinik had the croup, and 
here for two days he has not coughed ! 
Everything, even the most insignificant cir- 
cumstance, has taken a favorable turn. 
Just imagine, a gentleman owes me a thou- 
sand rubles ! Well, this morning I re- 
ceived a letter, in which he informed me that 
he will pay me next Saturday ! In one word, 
everything comes together. These are days 
when the revivifying rays of the sun come to 
warm the soul worn with long suffering ! ” 

“You are called for, sir,” suddenly inter- 
rupted the servant, appearing at the door. 


74 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


“ Who is it ? ” asked Nikolai Stepanovitch, 
passing his hand mechanically over his cheek, 
and drawing his dressing-gown about him. 

“ No, sir ; it is not you they want to see, but 
that gentleman there,” showing Pigounoff. 
Arkadii Ivanovitch rose quickly, cast an un- 
quiet look around him, and left the room, say- 
ing to the servant : 

u Very well, my friend, go ahead ! ” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch profited by the occa- 
sion, to make his excuses to his sister-in-law 
for appearing in such a costume. He told her 
that Arkadii would not allow him to finish 
shaving, and hurrying through his cup of tea, 
he went back to his room. 

Plardly had he lathered his cheek when the 
door opened and Pigounoff appeared. 

The hair of Arkadii Ivanovitch was in dis- 
order. His eyes bulged out of their sockets. 
Each part of his face was twitching and ex- 
pressed the deepest despair. Having entered 
the room, he closed the door nervously and 
turned the key. This circumstance fright- 
ened still more the peaceful Foufiiguine. 


THE GRUEL CITY . 


75 


“ What is it \ ” lie asked. 

Pigoun off’s only response was to tear kis 
Lair. 

“ Great God ! wLat Las Lappened ? ” asked 
Nikolai Stepanovitch, letting Lis razor fall. 

“ I am lost ! ” cried Pigounoff, wringing Lis 
Lands. “ I am tLe most unLappy of Luman 
beings,” allowing Limself to drop into a cLair. 
“ Ah, I sLall never recover from this blow ! ” 
“ But wLat is tLe matter ? ” 

“Look,” exclaimed Pigounoff, seizing Lim 
by tlie sLoulders and pushing Lim toward 
tLe window, “ down there by the entrance ! ” 
Nikolai StepanovitcL perceived two men 
making signs to each other. 

• “ I don’t understand,” said Foufliguine, 
whose brain was spinning around. “These 
two men ? ” 

“ These two men,” interrupted Pigounoff, 
with rage — but he stopped suddenly, made a 
despairing gusture, began to sob, and fell on 
Lis knees before Lis brother. 

“ Brother,” he cried, striking Lis breast with 
his fists, while the other tried in vain to lift 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


Y6 

him up. “ Brother, save me ! I do not ask it 
for myself ! Now you see before you the 
most unhappy of mortals ! I beg you to do 
it for the sake of my wife, for that poor crea- 
ture who has supported so many sorrows ! ” 

“ In the name of Heaven, what is the mat- 
ter with you ? ” repeated Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch, trying to drag his brother to his feet. 

“ Put yourself in my position,” continued 
Pigounoff, in a broken voice. “It will kill 
her — she is not in a condition, and she is so 
nervous. At the first word she will have hys- 
terics ! Just think, here in this hotel, these two 
ruffians will not hesitate to create a scandal ; 
put yourself in my place ! I shall never live 
through it ! How could I anticipate such a 
thing at a moment when I was rejoicing like 
an innocent child ! Oh, it is terrible ! ” 

“ But in the name of the Creator ! ” cried 
Nikolai Stepanovitcli, completely paralyzed 
with astonishment. 

“ Calm yourself ! calm yourself ! Pardon 
me for having frightened you,” cried Pigou- 
noff, tenderly throwing himself upon liis 


TEE GRUEL CITY. 


77 


brother to quiet him. “I lost my head. 
I was in despair. Judge me yourself ! 
These two men, I owe them ; they will not 
wait until Saturday. I assured them I 
would receive money on that day; all was 
useless ! Before I came here they presented 
themselves at my house. My wife spoke of 
our visit, before them. She was so eager to 
see you ! She had the imprudence to say, be- 
fore the children, that their rich uncle had 
arrived. We hastened here. They probably 

followed us and now — now ” returned 

Pigounoff. 

His voice broke again, his face expressed 
the most complete despair. “ Now they 
want to profit by the occasion to create a 
scandal — here in the hotel — in your room, 
and so force me to pay them. I have not a 
cent until Saturday. Ah ! it is terrible ! ” 

“ Look here, Arkadii, why didn’t you say 
that long ago ? ” 

“ Nikolai ! ” cried Pigounoff. 

He began to sob forcibly on the breast of 
his brother, brushing off for the second time 


78 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


with his whiskers the lather that covered one 
side of the other’s face. 

“ How much do you owe ? ” demanded 
Nikolai Stepanovitch. 

“ I owe a hundred rubles to one and 
thirty -five rubles to the other,” said Pigou- 
noff, his eyes brightening so suddenly that 
his tears were dried up. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch, happy to be able to 
render his brother a service, and fearing at 
the same time a scandal in the hotel, hastened 
to give him the sum demanded. 

“ Nikolai ! ” cried Pigounoff, again falling 
into his brother’s arms, “you have saved 
my life — more than that, you have probably 
saved the life of my nidotcKka . The ser- 
vice — no never ! — I feel it there, there ! ” 
striking his heart with his fist and, opening 
the door, disappeared. 

This unexpected scene which had taken 
place so upset Nikolai Stepanovitch that he re- 
mained for some time unable to hold his razor. 
For the third time he soaped his face and 
finally completed the operation. Believing 


TILE CRUEL CITY, \ 


79 

tliat it was best to profit by the occasion, he 
washed and dressed himself. This took at 
least ten minutes, when he rejoined the 
ladies. 

He found Pigounoff installed before a 
glass of tea that exhaled a strong odor of 
rum. His hair was in order and his face was 
again tranquil with peaceful joy and perfect 
repose. His voice no longer trembled. 

Pigounoif spoke in a soft tenor voice while 
talking to Sophia Petrovna. He did not 
seem to be paying much attention to his 
wife ; he even turned his back upon her. 
Perceiving Nikolai Stepanovitch, he pressed 
his hand with effusion. 

Sophia Petrovna excused herself to her 
sister-in-law by saying that she must make 
her toilet and would return in a few mo- 
ments. Calling Lecha and Pacha she disap- 
peared in the next room and shut the 
door. 

“Dear friend,” cried Pigounoff tenderly; 
“ I have engaged your wife to go to the 
theater, not to-day, but Saturday. They are 


80 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


going to play ‘ Hamlet.’ Do yon hear ? 

1 Hamlet ’ We cannot afford to let such a 
chance pass by. I only tell you one thing, 
that, when they play Shakespeare, I always 
feel a thousand times better when I come out 
of the theater.” 

Saying this, Pigounoff took a gulp of tea 
and poured in some more rum. “ Shake- 
speare was a genius who rose above the level 
of humanity — a Colossus who rose to infinite 
heights. I am not much of a theater- goer, 
but when they perform the plays of my 
William Shakespeare, you can bet, you will 
find me in a fauteuil. Yes, William was a 
genius — a great genius. He does not only 
move the mind — he penetrates to the depths 
of the heart ; he touches the conscience ; he 
stirs the soul. In one word, he causes your 
entire being to be shaken.” 

“ Yes, that must be very agreeable,” said 
Nikolai Stepanovitch naively. “And you, 
my sister, do you often go to the theater ? ” 

“ Oh, she never goes ! How could she go 
when she is always sick ? ” interrupted Pigou- 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


81 


noff, tenderly taking a swallow of tea and 
pouring out more rum. 

“Arkadii,” said liis wife upbraidingly, 
looking reproachfully at the glass of tea with 
her right eye. The left was closed by a cat- 
aract. 

“We must also go, my brother, that is, 
you, Sophia Petrovna, and myself,” continued 
Pigounoff, without deigning to look at his 
wife. “We must surely go to the Academy 
of the Beaux Arts. I have already spoken 
to my sister. Just imagine, they have brought 
three copies of Raphael from Italy ! We are 
only vegetating here ; we don’t live ! I, for 
example, could not live without paintings ! 
We must positively go there. I want you to 
experience the same feeling that I experience 
when I see the works of Sanzio — that divine 
young man. Yes, he died young. The hap- 
piest moments of my life are those I pass 
contemplating his works. They always pro- 
duce in my soul a feeling of freshness ! ” 

“ All right, all right ! I ask nothing 
better,” said Nikolai Stepanovitch, while Pig- 


82 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


ounoff swallowed some tea and again added 
rum to his glass. “ It would be very amusing ; 
we could take the children with us, yours and 
mine ! You will certainly come with us, 
sister ? ” 

“ No, she cannot ! ” interrupted Pigounoff. 
“ You see what a condition she is in, and then 
paintings fatigue the nerves. I know that 
from experience. Listen, my brother ; I think 
you have the intention of going out. I hear 
the rustle of my sister’s dress in the next 
room, and you are all dressed up. Where 
are you going ? ” 

“ To the Mirzoetfs ’,” said Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch. 

“ Do you know, my brother,” said Pigou- 
noff, in a melancholy tone, “ I regret in ad- 
vance what I am obliged to say. You know 
I don’t love that man. He is not sympa- 
thetic to me. His w r ife is a very amiable per- 
son, but as for him, his soul is dried up. In 
one word, he is a man you cannot speak to 
with an open heart. You will see for your- 
self how cold he is — well, he is not to me 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


83 


sympathetic, that man ; not sympathetic, at 
all, at all ! n 

The conversation was interrupted by the 
entrance of Sophia Petrovna, who had put 
on her best dress, her best cuffs, her best col- 
lar, her freshest gloves, and her most elegant 
hat. The children were also elegantly 
dressed. 

Madame Pigounoff examined Lecha and 
Pacha from head to foot, then involuntarily 
her eyes wandered toward her own children ; 
at the sight of those ragged costumes and the 
broken shoes of Vassia, Polinik and Sonia, 
the closed eye of Madame Pigounoff half 
opened. Then she examined her sister and, 
with a gesture full of confusion, covered her- 
self up with her seedy cloak. 

u Dear sister, as I told you before, we do 
not wish to disarrange you,” declared Nikolai 
Stepanovitch amiably. 

“ Once for all, I beg you not to stand on 
ceremony with us. You wish to visit the 
Mirzoeffs — very well, go ahead. But when 
shall we see you again ? That’s the impor- 


84 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


taut question ! Above all, you must come 
and dine with us. But don’t expect any 
luxury; our table is provincial, as they say. 
A good piece of roast beef, a good bottle of 
wine, and a good cigar.” 

All who knew the real situation of Pigou- 
noff would have been astonished to have 
heard this invitation. His wife, who naturally 
knew better than any one else, was not at all 
astonished ! It was a long time since she had 
been astonished at anything he might do or say. 

“ W ell, when will you dine with us ? ” con- 
tinued Arkadii. “As I said before, don’t 
stand on ceremony with us. What do you 
say to to-morrow? The day after — it is 
better to fix a time.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch and Sophia Petro- 
vna declared that they -should be happy to 
come any time. 

“ That’s it,” cried Pigounoff, “ but we will 
not detain you. We will go out together. I 
will hurry and finish my tea,” taking up his 
glass, which, thanks to his nearness to the tea- 
pot, was always full. 


TIIE CRUEL CITY. 


85 


This time he emptied it. 

“Well, my adored one,” he said suddenly, 
addressing his wife. 

“ Where are you going ? ” 

“ I have a very important affair,” said Pi- 
gounoff. “ Be so kind as to take the chil- 
dren back to the house. It will be a nice 
walk for you ; a day like this is a rarity in 
St. Petersburg, and I am persuaded that the 
promenade will fortify your nerves ! ” 

The Pigounoffs lived in the Ismalailovaki- 
Polk, which was five versts from the Hotel de 
Paris. 

“ Besides, I shall not be long in returning. 
In an hour at the most, I shall be at the house ; 
perhaps before.” 

The faded face of Madame Pigounoff ex- 
pressed the same incredulity as if some one 
had told her that she was the happiest woman 
in the world. 

“ Ho, you will not return,” she said softly. 

“ Look there, brother Nikolai ; all women 
are alike,” cried Arkadii Ivanovitch, in a joyous 
voice, “ They will never believe us, never ! ” 


86 


TEE CRUEL CITY. 


Nikolai Stepanovitch and Sophia Petrovna 
began to laugh, but Madame Pigounoff stood 
at one side, with her head bowed, her eye 
fixed on the floor with a discouraged air. 

“ Ah, yes, dear friend,” said Arkadii Ivan- 
ovitcli, taking his brother tenderly by the 
hand, “ tell the servant to allow me to come 
in, whether you are here or not, at any time. 
As I expect to see you often, I should like a 
chance to rest myself in case you are not at 
home. Give your orders, I beg you ; you will 
greatly oblige me.” 

Two moments later the velvet cap orna- 
mented the head of Pigounoff, and the two 
families went down the stairs together. 

They were already on the sidewalk when a 
carriage drawn by four horses arrived before 
the entrance. 

“ Stop ! stop when I tell you. Stop ! ” 
cried Coco impatiently, leaping out. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch and his wife were 
visibly troubled by the arrival of their neph- 
ew but their trouble was nothing compared 
to that of ArkaSii Ivanovitch Pigounoff. In 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


87 


perceiving Coco lie pulled his hat down over 
his eyes and hid behind the shoulders of his 
wife. 

“ I was here yesterday to see you,” said 
Coco, shaking his uncle’s hand and pressing 
his aunt’s. “ I am enchanted to see you en 
toilette. I have come to take you to the 
Islands. Good-day, Pigounoff ! ” striking the 
other on the shoulder and bowing coldly to 
his wife. 

“ Good-day, my friend ! ” murmured Pigou- 
noff, accompanying his words with one of 
those looks which one gives a creditor. 

But Coco did not honor him any longer 
with his attention ; addressing himself again 
to Foufluguine : 

“Well, where are we going? Sit down, 
aunt. I will drive you quickly. Oh ! such 
horses. Ah ! ” 

“But we can’t go. We are going else- 
where,” murmured Nikolai Stepanovitch. 

“ Where then ? ” 

“ To the Mirzoeffs’.” 

“ What an idea ! ” LoohThere, uncle, leave 


88 


TEE GRUEL CITY. 


them out. What in the devil is the good of 
the Mirzoeffs ? Sit down — en route ! ” 

“ But seriously, Coco, I have a very im- 
portant affair.” 

“ What affair ? ” replied Coco impatiently. 
“You have only just arrived, and you 
begin to occupy yourself with business 
already.” 

“ Besides, Sophia wishes to see her cousin.” 

“ Oh, yes ; it is so long since I have seen 
her,” replied Sophia Petrovna. 

“That’s another thing. Permit me to tell 
you, aunt, that your costume is delicious,” 
approaching Sophia. “Well, when shall we 
go to the Isles ? What a pity it can’t be to- 
day ! Still, I shall be passing by here again ; 
if not to-day we can go to-morrow. * Dear 
aunt, give my compliments to our cousin 
Alexandrine. You can tell her that were it 
not for her husband I should come to see her. 
She is charming. You will see yourself. 
Well, adieu ! Adieu, Pigounoff ! Why, where 
is he ? He has disappeared ! ” Pigounoff 
had really gone off while they were talking. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


89 


“ En route ! ” cried Coco, throwing himself 
into the carriage, which rolled away. 

As soon as Coco disappeared Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch and Sophia Petrovna turned toward 
Madame Pigounoff. They were both aston- 
ished at the unexpected disappearance of 
Arkadii Ivanovitch. But Madame Pigounoff 
said nothing ; her meager face wore an ex- 
pression of profound sorrow, of discourage- 
ment and weariness. 

She took the children by the hand and, 
saying that she was enchanted to make their 
acquaintance, moved wearily away. 

An ironic smile was on the lips of Sophia 
Petrovna, but knowing her husband’s attach- 
ment for his relatives, she stifled the malicious 
speech that she came near uttering relative 
to Madame Pigounoff. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch, with a preoccupied 
air, offered her his arm and, telling the chil- 
dren to go ahead, they directed their steps in 
the direction where the Mirzoeffs lived. 


CHAPTER IV. 

AT COUSIN MIUZOEFf’s. 

The Mirzoeffs lived in tlie great Podiat- 
cheskaia. 

Sophia Petrovna explained to her husband 
with her usual eloquence that it would not 
look well to present themselves on foot 
before relatives who, in one word, occupied 
in society — hum ! hum ! — a certain position. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch began by resisting; 
but, after several seconds, he shared the opin- 
ion of his wife. They engaged a carriage, 
and proceeded gayly toward the great Podi- 
atcheskaia. The house in which the Mirzo- 
effs lived made a favorable impression on 
Sophia Petrovna. She smiled on the columns 
and peristyle of the dwelling, as if she herself 
had taken part in its construction and was 
proud of her work. 

The heart of Sophia Petrovna dilated at 

90 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


91 


tlie sight of the astonished expression on her 
husband’s face when they found themselves 
on the handsome staircase, with its bronze 
balustrade. 

They had to mount to the fifth floor, but 
Sophia Petrovna consoled herself by the sight 
of a door covered with green cloth and stud- 
ded with little gold nails. 

A handsome silver plate bore the inscrip- 
tion, “ Piotre Pietro vitch Mirzoeff.” 

“ You can see at once that they are people 
of the best class,” said Madame Foufliguine 
to . herself, while her husband ran<x the 
bell. 

“ Is Piotre Pietrovitch at home ? Is 
Alexandra Semenovna at home ? ” 

“ Yes, madame ; enter, if you please,” said 
•the servant, showing them into a charming 
little ante-chamber, which Sophia Petrovna 
regarded with a triumphant air. 

“ Whom shall I announce ? ” 

“The Fou-fli-guines,” pronounced Nikolai 
Stepano vitch in a tone full of dignity. 

Hardly had he finished speaking, when 


92 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


Madame Mirzoeff appeared in the ante-cham- 
ber. 

In describing this young woman Coco 
Svistcheff had exaggerated nothing. Alex- 
andra Semenovna was really charming, though 
neither her face nor her figure were remark- 
able. She possessed one of those physiogno- 
mies which either create a great impression, or 
are not remarked at all. If the possessor of 
such a face sacrifices all her time to the study 
of her faults and her qualities, if she has the 
talent of concealing the former and displaying 
the latter, she is sure to attain a great success. 

Alexandra Semenovna possessed this talent 
in a great degree ; she even performed mira- 
cles, her friends said. She knew how to give 
to a kopeck the value of a ruble. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch was charmed by the 
rosy cheeks of his cousin ; the whiteness of 
her throat, which a lace collar only served to 
enhance ; the smallness of her foot, in its 
black slipper, with a red rosette ; the robe de 
ckambre , which outlined her graceful form 
and slim waist. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


93 


Madame Mirzoeff, seeing lier visitors, ut- 
tered a little cry, and threw herself into the 
arms of Sophia Petrovna ; then, taking Niko- 
lai Stepanovitcli by the hand, she told him 
how enchanted she was to make his acquaint- 
ance. Leclia and Pacha were embraced in 
their turn. 

“Well, here you are at last, thank Heaven ! 
But are you not ashamed of yourselves ? You 
arrived yesterday, and you have only come 
to-day to see us. Well, anyhow, I am de- 
lighted, dear Sophia. Come, I am burning 
with impatience for you to know my Piotre ; 
come ! ” 

Having crossed the dining-room, the Foufii- 
guines found themselves in the little red 
salon, decorated with mirrors and paint- 
ings, with handsome curtains on the win- 
dows. 

In seating herself on the luxurious sofa, 
Sophia Petrovna’s eyes filled with tears, and 
she asrain embraced her cousin. 

O 

“ My dear Sophia ! This is really a de- 
lightful surprise. Piotre ! Piotre ! ” cried 


94 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


Madame Mirzoeff, returning the caressing of 
her cousin, and then knocking on the door 
of a neighboring room. 

A moment later Piotre entered. 

Piotre Pietrovitch Mirzoeff was a man 
about forty, with an angular face clean 
shaven, and wearing gold eye-glasses. He 
wore a blond wig very much frizzed, and did 
not at all resemble a rat, as Coco had said, but 
rather a polecat. He smelt something like 
that animal, because his wig was sprinkled 
every day with a cheap eau de cologne. 
The head of Piotre Pietrovitch, considerably 
plastered behind, seemed to be glued to the 
collar of his shirt ; and his cravat had been 
tied with such care that it did not exhibit 
the smallest crease. The same order was 
displayed in everything about him. His pea- 
colored waistcoat was molded to fit, and his 
entire bony figure was so stiff that he resem- 
bled a perch that had been plunged in water 
and then frozen. 

Though he was not more than forty he 
had lost all his teeth, and his mouth was 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


95 


always stained with red, like that of a child 
who had been eating preserves. 

At first sight Sophia Petrovna and Nikolai 
Stepanovitch found him full of dignity. 

Having been informed who his visitors 
were, he directed his little gray eyes toward 
Madame Foufliguine, extended his arms and 
cried, “ Great God ! ” taking her in liis 
arms and embracing her ; then, turning to- 
ward her husband, repeated the same per- 
formances. 

“ And those are your children ? ” he re- 
peated, and, without bending his shoulders, he 
bowed down like the puppets in a theater, 
and kissed Lecha and Pacha on the forehead. 

“Well, here you are at last. We waited 
and waited, and had begun to lose the hope 
of seeing you — ah, ah, ah ! ” Mirzoeff had 
a wooden laugh, like that of a comic actor. 

“ My wife and I repeated the same thing. 
To tell the truth, I was getting unquiet ! I 
was afraid something had happened to detain 
you. Because, you see, the affair of which I 
spoke is pressing. Well, it is rolling on as if 


96 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


it liad wheels. I have already made inquiries 
and everything goes well ; ” — casting a scruti- 
nizing look toward Sophia Petrovna. 

“ I am obliged to you,” murmured Nikolai 
Stepanovitch. “ I, on my side — all that de- 
pends on me — I am quite at your service, 
dear Piotre Pietrovitcli.” 

Sophia Petrovna and her cousin during 
this time were seated on the sofa at the other 
end of the room, exchanging those airy noth- 
ings with which women occupy themselves 
in conversation. The talk was interrupted 
by the entrance of the maid. 

“ What do you want ? ” asked Alexandra 
Semenovna. 

“ Will madame come here an instant ? ” 

“ What is it ? ” 

“ Come, madame, if you please ; hum ! 
hum ! ” coughing mysteriously and showing 
the whites of her eyes. 

“ Heavens ! this is insupportable,” said 
Madame Mirzoeff, rising. “ Excuse me, dear 
Sophia; I shall be with you in a moment. 
What is it ? ” she asked, entering the dining- 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


9*7 

room. Her face and voice lost their amia- 
bility as if by enchantment. 

“ The lady from the store has come,” 
murmured the maid. 

“ Did I not tell you not to let her enter 
when my husband was in the house ?” mur- 
mured Madame Mirzoeff. 

“ I didn’t want to let her in. I told her 
* Madame is not there, she has gone out; ’ but 
she would not listen ! ” 

Alexandra Semenovna cast a rapid look 
around her, and then walked quickly into the 
ante-chamber. 

“ Ah, dear Madame Poupon,” she exclaimed 
amiably, with a smile on her lips. 

This reception seemed to make very little 
impression on Madame Poupon, who declared 
that she was tired of waiting and wanted her 
money. 

“ Come this way,” said Madame Mirzoeff, 
inviting her into a room to the right of the 
dining-room. 

“ Money, madame, money ! ” repeated the 
modiste, an old Frenchwoman wrinkled 


98 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


and faded, with big black eyes like a 
frog’s. 

“ But, my dear Madame Poupon, what shall 
I do ? At this moment I have not a kopeck. 
I have not a sou, dear Madame Poupon.” 

.“Here for three months you have been 
telling me the same thing,” replied the 
modiste, with animation. “ I can’t wait ! I 
shall be obliged to present those notes to 
your husband, parbleu ! ” 

“ Do you wish to lose my custom, Madame 
Poupon ? ” 

“ What need have I <*>f your custom. You 
don’t pay for whole months. I’ve come to 
the end of it. I don’t care anything for your 
custom ! ” 

“ Very well, but I can assure you that at 
this moment it will not do to quarrel with 
me ! ” 

“ Oh, bah!” 

“ No ; you don’t know what you are say- 
ing. I was just thinking about you. One of 
my cousins, and very rich, has just arrived 
from the provinces. She wishes to buy new 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


09 


tilings from head to — do yon understand 
me?” 

The frog-like eyes of the old woman lost 
their angry glare, and she began to regal’d 
Madame Mirzoeff with attention. 

“ I was just about to go in search of you. 
I have a very good memory ; I know that 
you have been waiting for three months, and 
I wished to recommend you to my cousin. 
She wants to buy an entire trousseau. I can 
guarantee you that. Well; do you want to 
do it or not ? ” 

“ Of course ! but is it sure ? ” 

“ It’s so sure that to-day or to-morrow we 
will pay you a visit and she will buy at least 
three hundred rubles’ worth of things. 
That’s a good beginning. She is rich ! You 
need not be afraid to' charge handsomely. If 
she doesn’t buy anything, you can present the 
notes to-morrow to my husband.” 

“ That suits me,” said the Frenchwoman, in 
a gentle voice. 

“ On one condition only.” 

“ Well?” 


100 


the cruel ary, 


“ That you consent to let my debt wait 
until the first of June without saying any- 
thing to my husband ! ” 

Madame Poupon responded traitorously 
that that depended on how much the cousin 
bought of her. 

Madame Mirzoeff was in such a critical 
position that she did not hesitate to add 
ciphers. She announced that the expendi- 
tures depended altogether on herself, and that 
they would be much greater if Madame Pou- 
pon consented to wait. 

“ Good ! To-morrow, then ? ” 

“ To-morrow.” 

Alexandra Semenovna accompanied the 
modiste to the door, and then hastened to 
return to the salon. 

In passing through the dining-room she 
approached the window and looked into the 
street. There was nothing interesting to see. 
The street was deserted, only a young man 
with a blue cravat and a cane in his hand 
was walking on the pavement opposite the 
Mirzoeff s’. Alexandra Semenovna pulled 


TUE GRUEL CITY, \ 


101 


down the curtain without paying the slightest 
attention to the blue cravat and the walking- 
stick. 

Nevertheless the young man bowed with 
enthusiasm, placed his hand on his heart, and 
walked away rapidly. 

Madame Mirzoeff found everybody talking 
gayly to her husband when she entered the 
room. 

“ Do you know, my dear Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch, that it would be better if we went into 
my working room ? ” said Piotre Pietrovitch, 
as the ladies seated themselves on the sofa, 
and returned to their conversation about 
collars and hats and the feminine foibles. 

“We are evidently de trop. Let us move, 
since we have to speak seriously of our affair.” 

He introduced his visitor into a comfort- 
able little room in the midst of which stood 
a table covered with papers. As for books, 
there were none except an almanac. Mir- 
zoeff installed Nikolai Stepanovitch in a 
fauteuil near the window and sat down 
opposite to him. 


102 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


“ Well/’ lie said, placing his hands, that 
were like a bird’s claws, on the knees of his 
cousin, whose face had assumed a serious ex- 
pression, "Well, before everything, I must 
explain this thing to you. I have left the 
ministry, as you know, to accept a place in this 
company. You have heard of it; it is an 
immense enterprise — the society for the 
‘Amelioration and Propagation of Horned 
Animals ’ — a colossal enterprise — and very lu- 
crative. I am the treasurer of the society. 
When I received your letter the idea came 
in my head that you, being a relative, I 
might find you a place with us. I suppose 
you are not over-ambitious ? In time you 
can become a stockholder in the society, 
and will receive considerable dividends. It 
is growing every day. A larger horizon, so 
to speak, opens before it. You must take all 
that in consideration.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch took all that in con- 
sideration and thanked his cousin Mirzoeff in 
advance. 

“ Now we arrive at an important place. I 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


103 


beg for your particular attention. You un- 
derstand tlie position whieli I hold in the so- 
ciety, and God knows how much trouble and 
pain it cost me ; for, as I wrote, there is no 
city harder to find a position in than St. 
Petersburg. You will understand that it 
will not be easy, in fact, it will be impossible 
for me to take part in your nomination.’ 7 

The bald head of Nikolai Stepanovitch rose, 
and his eyes opened widely. 

“I believe you understand me, Nikolai 
Stepanovitch? But let me tell you that 
you need not be unquiet. We have the 
means in our own hands of arranging this af- 
fair. Our society, that is to say, the society 
m which I occupy the place of treasurer, I 
cannot ask to make me manager also, and yet 
it is indispensable for your interests that I 
should obtain that place. Ah, that aston- 
ishes you! Well, I assure you that this is 
the way it is. Having two places, I hold 
a solid position in the society and can occupy 
myself in procuring you a sinecure. Do you 
understand me now ? ” 


104 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


Nikolai Stepanovitch felt the balls rolling 
around again in his head, but he said that he 
understood perfectly. 

“ If you could content yourself,” continued 
Mirzoeff amiably, “ with a place at nothing 
at all, I could find it for you at once, but you 
are obliged to find a position of some conse- 
quence. It is necessary that I should have 
more influence than I possess now, to find an 
occupation worthy of you. You see that your 
happiness is in our hands. That is why I 
wrote to you to come to us at once. I re- 
peat, your fortune is in our hands ! ” 

“ But how ? I don’t understand ! ” 

“ It’s very simple. You must manage 
things so that I can obtain the place as man- 
ager, and then ” 

“ But how can I do it ? I really ” 

“ It can only be arranged by the interven- 
tion of our founder. He is founder and presi- 
dent of our society ; an excellent man. His 
name is Mediolanski Andrei Andrevitcli, who 
has gained millions. In one word, our real 
director, " 1 - of a great enterprise. 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


105 


He it was who named me for the place, and 
consequently I cannot ask him for anything 
more for myself. I am sure he will not re- 
fuse you that, but there is no time to be lost. 
We must ask quickly. As I wrote to you, a 
great many people are trying to get the 
place.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch explained his inten- 
tion of visiting the founder of the society the 
very next morning. 

Piotre Pietrovitch listened with the same 
air as if a child of fifteen were explaining its 
prospects; then he bowed his head, and 
said : 

“ All that will accomplish nothing ! ” 

“ How nothing ? ” 

“ The founder of the society will not re- 
ceive you ! ” 

“ Why not ? I am not the first to call on 
him.” 

“ That has nothing to do with the case 
here ! As I told you, there are crowds of 
solicitors. Mediolanski is besieged from 
morning until evening. He will refuse you 


106 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


point-blank without doubt. We must act 
in an entirely different manner ! ” 

“How?” asked Nikolai Stepanovitch. 

“ You must beg Sophia Petrovna to go 
to him ” 

“ My wife ? ” 

“ Precisely ! ” said Mirzoeff. “ I know 
Mediolanski thoroughly. That which he 
would refuse to a man he would accord at 
once to a woman. He refuses ladies nothing. 
I repeat to you that if Sophia Petrovna solic- 
its the place we have it in a bag. I shall re- 
ceive the position of manager ; I shall hold a 
stronger place in the society, and then I can 
begin to work for you. All this can be done 
rapidly. Sophia Petrovna has only to ask. 
There, my friend,” tapping his cousin amicably 
on the shoulder, “ that’s how affairs are man- 
aged here ! ” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch could not believe that 
business was arranged in this way, but Piotre 
Pietrovitch shut him up by an avalanche of 
reasons. He explained the sphere and aim of 
the society of which he hoped to be manager. 


TEE CRUEL CITY. 


107 


The balls were frequently rolling in the 
head of Nikolai Stepanovitch during these ex- 
planations. Nevertheless, he consented to 
everything, recognizing his inexperience and 
insignificance before this man who was really 
great, really practical ; and he abandoned 
himself blindly into the hands of his relative, 
who from the first sight had inspired him with 
confidence. 

The Foufiiguines were absolutely com- 
pelled to dine with the Mirzoeffs. The con- 
versation could not continue for four hours on 
the same subject ; they spoke of a thousand 
things. The turn of the situation came in 
time. 

When the name of Arkadii Ivanovitch Pi- 
gounoff was pronounced, Mirzoeff arranged 
his glasses and a melancholy smile wreathed 
his mouth. He was a sad character, he said, 
and complained bitterly of his eccentricities. 

He was more severe toward Coco Svist- 
cheff, an addlepate, he said, who would never 
become a man. Nikolai Stepanovitch sighed 
and was silent. In lxis heart he agreed with 


108 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


Mirzoeff. So the time passed until dinner 
was ready. 

During the dinner Piotre Pietro vitch in 
a few words explained to Sophia Petrovna 
what was expected of her. 

Hardly had he finished speaking when his 
wife began to clap her hands with joy, and 
finished by embracing her cousin. There was 
no doubt of success, she said. Such eyes as 
Sophia’s Avould create ravages in any heart. 

It was decided that Sophia Petrovna should 
go the next day to see Mediolanski, and in a 
costume that was absolutely fresh. 

“ Don’t worry yourself about that. I will 
arrange everything. You shall be killing. 
I know you adore your Nikolai, but your 
amour propre will be flattered if he owes his 
place to you. That inspires respect in men ! 
Look at me — I arranged everything for Piotre. 
Without me, he would still be in some gov- 
ernment bureau. Of course I have not tried 
to profit by what I have done, but if there is 
an occasion — who knows what to expect in 
life ? — if there is occasion, I shall have arms of 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


109 


defense in my hands. We are slaves, my dear. 
They may say otherwise, but we are. We 
must hasten this matter. We have no time 
to lose ! ” 

“ But where are we going ? ” 

“ First to the dressmaker’s.” 

“ I have a carriage,” said Sophia Petrovna, 
reddening with pleasure. 

The cousins embraced, put on their hats 
and cloaks, and went into the next room to 
say good-by to the children. 

“ Now, children, be good,” said Sophia Pe- 
trovna, kissing Lech a and Pacha. “ I am go- 
ing away for a little while; don’t have any 
nonsense.” 

“ I don’t know what to do,” said Lecha, 
sniveling. 

“ I am sleepy, mamma,” said Pacha, rolling 
on the sofa. 

“ Papa will stay with you. I’ll tell him to 
take you home in a few minutes.” 

u They are delightful,” murmured Madame 
Mirzoeff, as they directed their way toward 
the door. Half an hour after the departure 


110 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


of the cousins, Nikolai Stepanovitck was on 
his way with the two children. 

As soon as they were in the street, the 
children woke up and declared that they did 
not want to go back to the hotel right away. 
Nikolai Stepanovitck asked for nothing bet- 
ter than to walk around a little. He had 
been three days in this beautiful city and 
had seen nothing. 

Having asked his way, he walked toward 
the Neva, but his position became more 
embarrassing the further he went. 

“ Papa, what is that ? ” the children asked 
every moment. 

“ That — that — that? Wait a moment. 

Eh, hello, my friend ! what is that ? ” 
a The Admiralty.” 

“ Papa ! papa ! and that ? ” 

“ That ? that ? Heh ! over there. What 
is that ? ” 

“ The Senate.” 

So it went on. In one word Lecha and 
Pacha did not allow their father a moment’s 
peace. 


THE CRUEL Oil T. 


Ill 


It was eight o’clock when they returned to 
the hotel. 

The first thing that attracted the attention 
of Nikolai Stepanovitch on entering was a 
sheet of paper on the table in the first room. 
He read as follows : 

“ I called to see you again, uncle. What 
has become of you? When are we going 
to the Isles? I am coming to-morrow to 
look for you and hope to find you at 
home. 

“ Coco. 

“ P. S. I kiss the hands of my aunt.” 

“ I thought you were going to dine at 
home, so I came to pass a few hours with 
you, dear Nikolai. God knows how long I 
waited ! But you know my nidotchka is all 
alone. I had to hurry to return to her, 
because she is very much enervated to- 
day. 

“Do not forget that you and your wife 
promised to dine with us to-morrow. We 


112 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


shall expect you, and now, farewell ! I em- 
brace you with a full heart. 

“ Your brother in soul and sentiments — 

“ Arkadh Pigounoff.” 

After putting the children to bed, Nikolai 
Stepanovitch attired himself in his dressing- 
gown and began to make out a list of his ex- 
penses. Then he paused and, ringing for the 
servant, asked that the bill might be brought 
to him at once. 

“ That is not exorbitant ! I expected 
much more,” said Nikolai Stepanovitch to 
himself. “ But what’s this ? ” he cried, open- 
ing wide his eyes. “ What’s this ? ” 

“ That’s the dinner to-day,” replied the 
servant. 

“You are wrong, my friend. It’s an 
error. We did not dine in the hotel to-day.” 

“ I know that, but your brother dined 
here. You ordered me to let him come in at 
any time.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch lowered his eyes and 
read as follows : 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


113 


Dinner. May 3. 

Brandy. 

Brandy. 

Brandy. 

Hors d’oBuvre. 

Soup Bisque of Lobster. 

Beef Saute with Truffles. 

Bottle of Xeres. 

Anchovies. 

Asparagus. 

Bottle of Lafite, No. 1. 

Sweetbreads and Green Peas. 

Quail with Truffles. 

Bottle of Port, No. 1. 

Caf6 and Cognac. 

_ Cigar. 

Liqueurs. 

Total — 14 rubles 40 kopecks. 

“ Fourteen rubles for a single dinner ; for 
a single dinner ! ” cried Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch. “ It is terribly dear ! ” 

“ The gentleman asked for portions. That 
is always dearer than a dinner,” said the 
servant. 

“Very well, my friend, you can go. The 
devil! "We must certainly economize. With 


114 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


wliat Arkadii has taken, I have only two 
thousand rubles left. Admitting that Mir- 
zoeff obtains his place at the end of eight 
days, then fifteen days for preliminary prep- 
arations. Well, I canndt hope to have the 
place before a month. I must arrange things 
so that I will have at least a thousand rubles 
left. My ! how dear everything is here ! 
Ah, my dear, you are late in returning,” ad- 
dressing his wife, who comes in at that 
moment. “ What have you got there ? ” per- 
ceiving a large package in her hands. 

“ The bundle contains, naturally, things 
of the greatest necessity.” 

“ Hum ! Things of the greatest necessity ! ” 
murmured Nikolai Stepanovitch. At this 
moment, while his destiny was in the hands 
of his wife, he knew it would be dangei ous 
to make any unkind observations. 

“ I am delighted,” she said, while her hus- 
band was making these reflections ; “ I am 
delighted with St. Petersburg, and it is ri- 
diculous to think that everything is dearer 
here. That is a provincial idea. In fact, 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


115 


everything is much cheaper, and as for qual- 
ity, there is no comparison. I went all over 
the Nevsky Perspective with Alexandra. 
She introduced me to a charming young man ; 
a certain Sioiissioukoff. A young man cul- 
tured and charming.” 

“ I never heard of him before. Piotre Pie- 
tro vitch did not speak of him at all ! ” 

“Oh, not a word about Sioussioukoff to 
Piotre ; they have quarreled ! Alexandra 
told me that her husband persecutes him. 
We met him by chance. Cousin wanted to 
show me the passage, and the first person we 
met was Sioussioukoff. In one word, I have 
had a delightful time.” 

Nikolai Stepano vitch went to bed soon 
afterward, and his wife was not slow in join- 
ing him. 

It seemed to Stepanovitch that, as he slept, 
he found himself in a great square surrounded 
by soldiers on horseback. Each one held his 
sword in the direction of his breast. A pre- 
sentiment of some great danger filled the soul 
of Nikolai Stepanovitch. Finally a soldier 


116 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


rode out from tlie ranks and lie recognized 
Karpenko. He was frozen .with horror ! 
The same Karpenko who had made the voy- 
age with them ! Nikolai Stepanovitch wished 
to cry out ! He could not ! 

“Read,” said Karpenko menacingly, un- 
rolling a huge piece of paper on which 
Nikolai -Stepanovitch agreed to pay all the 
expenses of his brother Arkadii Pigounoff 
since the day of his birth. 

“ But I have not the means,” cried Nikolai 
Stepanovitch. 

“ If that is so, chop him, chop him down ! ” 
cried Karpenko, with rage. 

A clash of arms was heard, and Nikolai 
Stepanovitch woke up trembling. 

Then he found himself in his own village, 
walking in the woods. Thousands of birds 
were chirping. Tender tears rolled down the 
cheeks of Nikolai Stepanovitch. The voices 
of the birds were transformed into bells that 
rang noisily. The forest became filled with 
the rolling of carriages. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch recognized the judge 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


m 


of his native land, the chief of police, and the 
bailiff. 

“ Gentlemen,” he said, “ to what do I owe 
this honor. I hope you will take dinner with 
me?” 

“ That is not the question,” said the bailiff 
coarsely. “You have no right to walk in 
these woods. You have forgotten that ten 
years ago they were sold to Mediolanski ! ” 

“ Away with you ! Get out ! ” cried hun- 
dreds of voices. 

He had a glimpse of the head of grand- 
father Isocim between the trees. It disap- 
peared immediately. 

“ This is strange. I find myself in this 
country and in St. Petersburg at the same 
time ! Why, that is impossible ! Still, 
there is nothing astonishing in it. They 
make steel wires that you can hear through 
at a great distance, and it is Mirzoeff who 
has manufactured them at his copper works ! ” 

Suddenly he found himself in a narrow 
street in St. Petersburg, aild the more he ad- 
vanced the narrower and darker it became. 


118 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


Nikolai Stepanovitcli was not angry. No 
one could see that his boots were torn. Yes, 
he would go and try a new pair of boots. 

But the street became so narrow that he 
could not advance any farther. Nikolai 
Stepanovitch had trouble in breathing. 

“ What is it ? ” he asked suddenly. 

“ It is the Neva,” cried his servant Kari- 
tone, in a gloomy voice. 

“ We shall go to the bottom of the Neva,” 
cried the chambermaid of Sophia. Petrovna 
affrightedly. 

“ How is it that we find ourselves in the 
Nevsky Perspective ? ” demanded Nikolai 
Stepanovitch. 

“ Yes, it is the Nevsky Perspective,” cried 
Coco, turning on his heels. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch turned here and 
there, filled with fright ! He examined his 
boots and rushed to a shoe-store, but the 
door was locked, and on all sides he heard 
mocking laughter. 

“ Quick ! quick ! a pair of boots ! How 
much do these cost ? ” cried Nikolai Stepano- 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


119 


vitcli, pointing toward a pair of gilded boots 
that swung on a sign in front of the shop. 
“ What’s the price ? ” 

“ A hundred thousand rubles ! ” 

“ What ? ” 

“Yes, everything is dear in St. Peters- 
burg.” 

“ Imbecile ! ” cried the voice of Isocim Pet- 
rovitch. “ There is a sack of gold under 
your feet, and you have not so much as 
looked at it ! ” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch seized the sack and 
lifted it to his shoulder, fell down crushed by 
the weight, and woke up covered by a cold 
perspiration. 

Sophia Petrovna had no nightmare, but she 
could not sleep because of the emotion she 
felt ; and this emotion was the cause of her 
insomnia. A very important question, when 
we take into consideration that Sophia Pe- 
trovna had the intention of making the con- 
quest of Mediolanski, and that she wished to 
appear before him as fresh as a rose. 


CHAPTER V. 


TRIUMPH OF SOPHIA PETROVNA MIRZOEFF 

FINDS THE NECESSITY OF GIVING SOME 

ADVICE. 

The next morning about nine o’clock, the 
dressmaker, Madame Poupon, knocked with 
her bony fingers on the door of No. 3 of the 
Hotel de Paris. 

“ Can one come in ? ” she asked in her 
scratching voice, which she tried to make 
agreeable. 

Sophia Petrovna had been waiting for an 
hour in the salon ; her heart at times filled 
with anguish at the thought that Madame 
Poupon would be late, or would not come at 
all, or that the dress that had been ordered 
was not ready. Imagine her joy when she 
heard the Frenchwoman’s voice. At the 
sight of the big box Madame Foufiiguine 

was ready to throw herself on the modiste’s 

120 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


121 


breast and cover her with kisses. She con- 
tented herself, however, with pressing the 
other’s hand. 

“ I admire your exactitude, Madame 
Poupon ; you are a pearl among dress- 
makers.” 

Madame Mirzoeff arrived a few moments 
later. She had promised the day before to 
help her cousin dress for the momentous oc- 
casion. Her husband accompanied her. He 
was in haste to return the visit of Nikolai 
Stepanovitch without losing a moment. The 
cousins retired to the third room and locked 
the door. Five minutes later Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch and Piotre Pietrovitcli heard excla- 
mations of joy. 

The day before Madame Poupon had de- 
clared, with the frankness that characterized 
her, that it was impossible to make a new 
dress in so short a time, but fortunately she 
had a costume on hand that she had just 
bought from a countess. It was found that 
Madame Foulliguine was formed exactly like 
countess. As the dress was charming and 


122 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


quite new and had belonged to a noble lady, 
Sophia Petrovna was delighted. 

It became her very well, but the fit was 
not perfect, as it appears the countess was 
slightly deformed. The modiste declared 
that that was nothing at all, and that it 
would soon adjust itself to Madame Fou- 
fiiguine’s figure. It fitted her perfectly, as 
if she had been poured into it. 

“ It becomes you marvelously ! ” said Alex- 
andra Semenovna in her turn. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch and Piotre Pietro- 
vitch talked as they were waiting in the next 
room. In the midst of an agreeable conver- 
sation the servant entered and informed 
Foufliguine that he was called for. 

He found Arkadii Pigounoff waiting for 
him, and, when he entered, his brother kissed 
him noisily on each cheek. 

“ I preferred not to enter, as you had a visi- 
tor,” said Pigounoff, casting an unquiet look 
around and lowering his voice. “ I think I 
have already told you that that gentleman 
there does not inspire me with any sym- 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


123 


pathy ; you have an affair with him ; you 
have need of him — that I can understand. 
Besides, I am only here for a minute. I 
came to beg you and Sophia Petrovna to 
dine with us this evening. You remember 
you gave us your word, both of you.” 

“ But my wife is going to make a very im- 
portant visit, and I do not know when she 
will return ! ” 

“ I shall not fix any time — four, five, six ! 
It’s all the same to me. Naturally the sooner 
the better, but you must absolutely come ! I 
shall be greatly chagrined. I ami in a black 
humor to-day,” continued Pigounoff, thrusting 
his hands in his pockets gloomily. “ Every- 
thing looks dark ! I repeat, you will greatly 
pain me if you don’t come. I have already 
made some preparations. Well, we can count 
on you ? ” 

“ Yes ” 

“ In any case ? ” 

“ In any case.” 

“ Word of honor ? ” 

“ Word of honor.” 


124 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


“You fill me with joy!” said Arkadii Pi- 
gounoff, and, seizing liis brother’s hand, he 
pressed it warmly, while two tears sparkled 
in his eyes. 

“ But I will not detain you. It is impos- 
sible for me to stay. My nidotchka is all 
alone. She will be disquieted. Au revoir. 
I’ll expect you, don’t forget. Let me clasp 
you again in my arms. My good, dear Ni- 
kolai!” 

Having fulfilled the desire of his heart, Ar- 
kadii Pigounoff pulled his velvet cap down 
over his eye§ and retired in haste. 

When Nikolai Stepanovitck entered, he 
found his visitor in contemplation before 
Leclia and Pacha, who were playing. Foufli- 
guine invited him to enter the salon. 

“ That was probably your brother ! I 
recognized his voice,” said Mirzoeff, seating 
himself on the sofa. “ I pity that man with 
all my heart. How can any one live so long 
and not have a position ? That’s something I 
cannot understand ! Why does he avoid me ? 
It is true we have had accounts together, but 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


125 


I have never referred to them, never ! I see, 
Nikolai Stepanovitcli, that yon are notTisten- 
ing. Of what are you thinking ? ” 

“ To tell the truth, Piotre Pietro vitch, I am 
not — You know this visit of my wife to 
Mediolanski troubles me a little.” 

“ From what point of view ? ” looking at him 
scrutinizingly. 

“ It lias seemed to me all along that it 
will amount to nothing. How can a woman 
all alone ” 

Piotre Pietrovitch laughed softly, in his 
wooden way. 

“ Ah, my very respected Nikolai Stepan o- 
vitch, you do not understand life at all. If 
one of us were to go and solicit the same favor 
as Sophia Petrovna, we should obtain noth- 
ing at all. But with a woman young and 
pretty, it will roll on wheels. I know men, 
and I may add that I know Mediolanski as I 
know my pocket. The old man is very in- 
flammable ; he goes to pieces. He has only to 
go to pieces, and then we step in and take our 
share. You see I have not entered in this af- 


126 


TIIE CRUEL CITY. 


fair except to help you, and, moreover, I am 
sure of success ! How can I feel any doubt ? 
Look ! Look for yourself,” cried Mirzoeff, ris- 
ing as Sophia Petrovna appeared, followed by 
her cousin, Madame Poupon, and the chil- 
dren. 

She was really very pretty in her new cos- 
tume, and no one knew it any better than 
herself. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks were 
rosy, and her mouth smiled with satisfaction. 
She looked patronizingly on those around her, 
as they expressed their astonishment by ex- 
clamations. 

“ Sophia Petrovna — I cannot find words 
— I cannot find words ” repeated Mir- 

zoeff, more than ever persuaded that the place 
of manager was as good as won. “ I shall 
say nothing. There is nothing left for me 
to do but be silent and bend the knee ; 
nothing more ! ” 

The children showed their joy by dancing 
around their mother and clapping their hands. 
Only Nikolai Stepanovitcli was silent. He 
seemed proud and ashamed at the same time. 


THE GRUEL CITY, \ 


127 


It seemed to him that he had not appreciated 
Sophia before at her just value. 

Mirzoeff went toward the window with 
Madame Foufliguine. He felt the need of 
repeating again to her the particulars about 
Mediolanski, the manner of addressing him, 
and how to conduct herself before the presi- 
dent of the Society for the Propagation of 
Horned Beasts. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch profited by this mo- 
ment to go and call a carriage. 

“ And now, my cousin, go. AVe must 
strike the iron while it is hot. Ah ! ah ! it 
won’t do to wait,” said Mirzoelf, leaving the 
window. 

“ My friend, the carriage is waiting,” said 
Nikolai Stepanovitch tenderly, but not with- 
out a certain timidity, 

“ AVe will go together,” cried Alexandra 
Semenovna, who had been chatting with the 
modiste. “ Sophia can conduct me as far as 
the Perspective. I shall only be gone a few 
seconds, then I shall come back here. Go on, 
dear friend, go on. Adieu, Madame Poupon ! ” 


128 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


“ Pleasure to the ladies. Gentlemen, I 
have the honor,” said the Frenchwoman 
amiably and, seizing her box, withdrew. 

When the carriage was bearing Sophia 
Petrovna away, her husband fell into a silent 
mood and could hardly dissimulate his in- 
quietude. He could not himself explain 
why he was uneasy ; he had full and entire 
confidence in his cousin ; he did not doubt 
the favorable result of their enterprise, yet 
his forehead every moment was covered with 
a cold perspiration. Each time a carriage 
passed in the street he was seized by such a 
feeling of anguish that Mirzoeff and his wife 
thought it their duty to distract him. She 
spoke of the pleasures of the capital, still un- 
known to Nikolai Stepanovitch. The other 
discussed the advantages offered by the 
society, in which he wished his cousin to 
enter as soon as possible. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch listened to all this 
with an air diUrait. He continued to move 
about uneasily, casting disturbed looks to- 
ward the window. Two hours at least had 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


129 


passed, and his inquietude had reached its 
apogee. He was not content with darting 
anxious looks toward the street; he rushed 
to the window every moment a carriage went 
by. 

“ Here she is ! here she is ! ” he cried with 
joy and, before the Mirzoeffs could under- 
stand what moved him, he had rushed to the 
stairs. 

Two moments later he entered, accom- 
panied- by his wife. 

“Well, how did it pass off?” demanded 
the Mirzoeffs, hurrying forward. 

“ She was splendidly received. He sent 
every one away. He received her alone ! ” 
cried Fouhiguine, suffocated with joy, and 
unable to take his eyes off of his wife. 

The face of Sophia Petrovna was stamped 
with a certain assurance full of dignity. 

“ I don’t understand, Nikolai, what has 
seized you! It is altogether ridiculous,” 
replied she, blushing slightly. “ What is 
there so extraordinary about Mediolanski’s 
receiving me? It would be very strange if 


130 


TIIE GRUEL CITY. 


he had not — . I found him very gentlemanly, 
very amiable, and altogether agreeable ! By 
the way, he is coming here* to-morrow to see 

me. He asked permission to return ” 

“ Bravo, Sophia ! Why you have made 
his conquest,” cried Alexandra Semenovna. 

“ Sophia Petrovna, I cannot find the 
words,” said cousin Mirzoeff, raising the hand 
of the young woman to his lips. “ I cannot 
find words to express my admiration ! ” 

“ I tell you, Piotre Pietrovitch, she is an 
extraordinary woman! She does anything 
that* she wants to ! Positively everything ! ” 
began Nikolai Stepanovitch, who was bub- 
bling over with tumultuous sentiments. 

But he stopped short when he perceived 
the angry glance of his wife, who was scarlet 
with indignation. 

“ Well, Nikolai Stepanovitch, why were you 
unquiet ? ” demanded Mirzoeff. “ Did I not 
tell you that there are circumstances in 
which a woman is all-powerful ? Sophia 
Petrovna, what did he say to you about the 
place of manager? ” 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


131 


“ He smiled with a charming air, and said 
that he would give me his response to-mor- 
row, and, to judge from the expression of his 
face, it will be a satisfactory one.” 

“ Oh, these women ! Didn’t I tell you 
so ? ” exclaimed Mirzoeif, whose heart was 
beating heavily. “ Thanks to your charming 
wife, Nikolai Stepauovitch, our affair goes 
well. In eight days, perhaps sooner, I shall 
obtain my place — and then — and then I can 
occupy myself with you. Still another ques- 
tion, Sophia Petrovna,” he continued, turning 
toward his cousin, who was going to take off 
her hat and mantilla. “ Did Mediolanski say 
at what hour he would come to see you ? ” 
“Exactly at one o’clock,” replied Sophia 
Petrovna, going into the next room. 

“ That’s perfect. Listen, Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch!” murmured Mirzoeff, drawing his 
cousin into an embrasure of the window. 
“You will do well about one o’clock to-mor- 
ror — 0 r rather, about noon, to come and see 
me. Or, no ; to-morrow is the day for the 
balance-sheet. What a bother ! But it’s all 


132 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


the same. You told me that Arkadii Ivano- 
vitch had invited you to go to the academy 
with him. You dine with him to-day; tell 
him you will come to-morrow to take him.” 

“ But how, Piotre Pietrovitch ? It is 
entirely impossible. You forget that ” 

“ What do I forget ? ” 

“ Mediolanski ! He will just be here at 
that time. You heard, he said about one 
o’clock” 

The dignified face of Mirzoeff assumed a 
preoccupied air. 

“ Nikolai Stepanovitch, permit me to say a 
few words,” lie said in a soft and coaxing 
voice, taking his cousin by the button of liis 
coat, but, not finding that expressive enough 
for his purpose he took his hand. 

u Permit me to be frank with you. We 
are relatives, you understand, and besides I 
wish you well with all my heart and soul. I 
sympathize with you. Yes, I sympathize 
with you.” 

Here Mirzoeff pressed his cousin’s hand, 
who returned it. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


133 


“ Well, my experience of life,” continued 
Mirzoeff, “my knowledge of the world, 
which you who have lived peacefully in the 
fields and woods can have no idea. — Oh, how 
many times I have envied you, Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch. How many times ! Give me the 
right to speak to you from an open heart 
under all circumstances. Is it not so ?” 

“ I beg you, dear Piotre Pietrovitch ; you 
will give me pleasure, and I shall be much 
obliged to you.” 

“ Thanks, thanks ! ” interrupted cousin 
Mirzoeff, taking him by the button, and then 
by the hand. “ When we began first to 
speak of the visit of Mediolanski, I — I was a 
little constrained .about explaining to you all 
my thoughts, but encouraged by your words 
I will speak out; yes, I will speak out. 
Listen, Nikolai Stepanovitck,” casting a 
tender look over the rim of his gold eye- 
glasses. “It would be embarrassing for 
you. I will say no more. You must abso- 
lutely not be in the house during his visit. 
You know the exigencies of the world de 


134 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


mancl it. It is easy to understand. Hear 
me well. Your wife lias paid him a visit ; lie 
returns it. Just remark — to lier, not to you. 
Your presence would be indelicate at sucli a 
juncture. Here in your bouse you are the 
first personage. Are you not ? Mediolanski 
pays a visit to your wife alone. Remark - — to 
her alone / and he meets her with you. Par- 
don me, but he is not obliged to recognize 
her. It is very indelicate ! I also counsel 
you to take away the children. Children 
make a noise and embarrass people. And 
besides Mediolanski is not married, and, I be- 
lieve, detests children. That’s very natural ! 
II ave you understood me well, dear Niko- 
lai Stepanovitch ? ” concluded Mirzoeff ten- 
derly. 

“ Without doubt, Piotre Pietrovitch — I 
have certainly understood — all that,” said 
Foufliguine, shutting his eyes and trying to 
put in order his ideas, which were beginning 
to trouble him. “ I — I am very much obliged 
to you, but it is very extraordinary all the 
same.” 


TEE CRUEL CITY. 


135 


“ Well, those are the usages of the world, 
so we must submit.” 

At this moment the two ladies appeared, 
and Piotre Pietrovitch became silent. 

“ Do you know, Nikolai, that No. 1 in the 
hotel has been vacant since yesterday ? I 
have a mind to profit by the chance and 
move. Having only three rooms is very in- 
convenient.” 

“ But why ? I don’t find it so ! This room 
does very well, and we can receive here any- 
body.” 

“ I don’t understand, either, why it does 
not please you, Sophia Petrovna. Still, it 
would be better to move into No. 1,” Mir- 
zoelf hastened to say, as he noted the discon- 
tented expression on his cousin’s face. “It 
really would be better ; if Sophia Petrovna 
was soliciting a place for you, she might re- 
ceive in a room more simple than this, but 
she is demanding a place for another. A lit- 
tle more comfort would not be bad. You un- 
derstand, dear Nikolai Stepanovitch, change 
apartments; it is for only two or three days.” 


136 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


When his wife first spoke, Nikolai Ste- 
panovitcli was firmly resolved to resist lier 
intention of changing rooms. He was con- 
vinced that his money was running out of his 
pocket as if the entire sum he possessed was 
in small change, and that his pocket had a 
hole in it. 

The prospect of success, which it was ridic- 
ulous to doubt any longer, the visit of Mecli- 
olanski, and above all, the last arguments of 
a man so experienced as Mirzoeff, completely 
crushed all rebellion in Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch. 

Two minutes later he declared to a servant 
that they would move into No. 1. They be- 
gan to move their things after the Mirzoeffs 
left, and in three hours were settled in their 
new quarters. 

The Foufliguines then ordered a carriage 
and rode away to the Pigounoffs’. 

We cannot conceal the fact that Sophia 
Petrovna had no liking for this dinner. She 
did not find her hosts sympathetic. But there 
was no way of escaping it. How could she 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


137 


wound her husband, who performed all her 
wishes, and who felt so tenderly toward his 
brother and his family ? 

There were other reasons why Sophia Pe- 
trovna wished to hide her discontent from 
Nikolai Stepanovitch. She had on her con- 
science two silk dresses, two embroidered 
skirts, a collar and a hat, ordered from Ma- 
dame Poupon, and hidden from her husband. 

So the first word that Nikolai Stepanovitch 
said apropos to the dinner, she had hastened 
to dress herself, to show her deaf Nikolai that 
she was always eager to carry out his wishes. 


CHAPTER VI. 

THEY DINE AT THE PIGOUNOFFs’. 

It was a quarter-past four by the watch of 
Nikolai Stepanovitch when they paused before 
a large live-story house in the Ismailovskii 
Polk. 

The Foufliguines crossed the hall and 
ascended the stairs, which, though wide, were 
somber and dirty. 

Arkadii Ivanovitcli occupied the top floor. 
Arrived before the door, Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch rang the bell several times vigorously 
without response. After waiting a minute 
he began again. The same silence reigned on 
the other side of the door. 

“ This is astonishing ! Have I made a mis- 
take in the floor ? ” said Nikolai Stepanovitch, 
while Sophia Petrovna bit her lips so as not 
to laugh, but it was impossible. “ Arkadii 
certainly explained to me that it was here. 

138 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


139 


I shall ask opposite,” diverting his steps to- 
ward a door, on which was the inscription, 
“ Midwife.” 

“ What an agreeable neighborhood. It is 
very convenient for Amenaida Vassilievna,” 
said Sophia Petrovna, “ and ” 

“ Are you not ashamed, Sophia ? Oh ! ” 
cried Nikolai Stepanovitcli, greatly shocked, 
as he rang. 

The face of a woman appeared at the 
midwife’s door and disappeared immediately 
with the announcement that the Pigounoffs 
lived opposite. Nikolai Stepanovitch re- 
turned to his brother’s bell. 

“ It seems to me that the bell is in a bad 
condition ; you cannot hear a sound ; it is not 
astonishing that no one comes to the door,” 
remarked Sophia Petrovna, watching the use- 
less efforts of her husband, who pulled with 
all his force. 

Then he began to pound with both fists on 
the panels. 

“ Yes, the bell is demolished. Some one is 
coming ; I hear ! ” he said gayly. 


140 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


The key grated in the lock, and a frowzy- 
haired woman, resembling a sorceress, ap- 
peared at the door. 

"Your desire?” she asked in a cracked 
voice, casting a suspicious look at her 
visitors. 

Without offering any explanation, Nikolai 
Stepanovitcli took Lecha and Pacha by the 
hand and started to enter. The sorceress 
barred his way. 

" Whom do you wish to see ? ” she re- 
peated angrily. 

" Arkadii Ivanovitcli.” 

" He is not at home.” 

"How? Well, it don’t matter; his wife 
and his ” 

" She is not here either. No one is in the 
house.” 

"Well, they will return. We dine with 
them to-day; we can Avait for them,” said 
Nikolai Stepanovitch, in a coaxing \ r oice, try- 
ing again to enter. 

But the sorceress continued to stand in the 
Avay. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


141 


“ I cannot let any one enter without my 
master’s permission. It is forbidden.” 

“ How is it forbidden ? ” cried Foifiiguine, 
who was beginning to lose his patience. 
“ Why, I am the brother of Pigounoff. I am 
his brother ; do you understand ? ” 

At this announcement the face of the guard- 
ian cleared up ; still, she shut the door in 
their faces, locked it, and went away. 

The face of Nikolai Stepanovitcli grew 
scarlet, and beads of perspiration rose on 
his forehead. Sophia Petrovna this time 
could not restrain her laughter. 

“ What makes you laugh ? I don’t see 
anything laughable in this at all!” he 
said in a voice that showeclh is anger anc 
uk mcholy. 

He made a gesture of impatience. 

“ The devil ! There is nothing to be gaine< l 
by standing here ; ” and taking the hand c f 
Lecha and Pacha he began to descend tin 
stairs with a decided air. 

They had reached the last few steps whe i 
the voice of the old woman was heard cry- 


142 


THE CREEL CITY. 


ing, u Come in ! come in ! Madame is at 
home ! ” 

But it was not alone her voice which at- 
tracted the attention of the Foufliguines. A 
young man with a blue cravat and a plaid 
vest was descending the stairs on a run. In 
three seconds he stepped before Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch, completely out of breath. 

“Ah, Mr. Sioussioukotf, is it you?” said 
Sophia Petrovna, with an agreeable smile. 
“ Permit me to present my husband, Nikolai, 
Mr. Sioussioukotf.” 

The two men saluted and shook hands. 

“You are probably astonished that you 
were not allowed to enter,” said Sioussioukotf 
amiably — “ the same thing has happened to 
me. The cook is stupid as a cabbage. . hi 
rang a long time. So did I. The bell is 
muffled. It was Arkadii Ivanovitch who 
had the idea.” 

“ Is Amenaida Yassilievna ill ? ” 

“No, I don’t think so. I believe she is all 
right. But the other day there was a great 
row, and that is why the bell was muffled.” 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


143 


“ Great heavens ! what was the trouble ? ” 
asked Foufliguine, greatly disquieted. 

“ Well, somebody announced in the paper 
that Arkadii Ivanovitch was going abroad. 
They rang here all day long ! the stairs were 
crowded with people. It was very tiresome ; 
Arkadii was in despair. That is why the 
bell was muffled. But what are we waiting 
here for b Amenaida Vassilievna was very 
much put out when she heard that you had 
been standing on the stairs. I immediately 
started in pursuit. I am also here for the 
first time. I dine here. I knew you were 
coming, so I wanted to profit by the occa- 
sion.” 

Sioussioukoff pressed the hand of Nikolai 
Stepanovitch, and cast an expressive look at 
Sophia Petrovna that caused her to blush 
and turn her head. 

“ It is strange that Arkadii Ivanovitch has 
not returned. There are two visitors already 
waiting for him. A painter, Korotchkine, a 
rather insignificant party, and a certain M. 
Fouck, a German, I believe, with a fero- 


144 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


cious air — but I don’t know either of 
them.” 

Sioussioukoff rattled on without taking 
breath until the door was reached, devouring 
with his eyes the little feet. of Sophia Pe- 
trovna, who tripped lightly up the remaining 
steps to display her grace. 

Madame Pigounoff awaited her relative in 
the ante-chamber, and their advent seemed to 
trouble her profoundly. 

We have never seen Madame Pigounoff in 
her moments of joy, and we are ignorant by 
what exterior signs the feeling was mani- 
fested by her; but at this time her face 
seemed to lengthen out. She trembled 
from head to foot as if she were suffering 
from the ague. 

This was nothing in comparison to the 
anguish depicted on her face when Nikolai 
Stepanovitch announced that they had come 
to dine. 

This information gave her a blow as 
violent as if her brother-in-law had stabbed 
her with a poniard. Her limbs shook, she 


THE CREEL CITY. 


145 


had trouble in standing steady, while her 
sound eye closed for a moment. 

She collected her feeble forces in a few 
moments, and invited her relations to enter. 

They encountered in the first room Vassia, 
Polinik and Sonia, who uttered cries of joy 
at the sight of Lecha and Pacha. Leaving 
the children together, Madame Pigounoff led 
them into the next room, ornamented with 
two ragged sofas, a work-table, and several 
rickety-looking chairs. There they found 
the gentlemen of whom Sioussioukoff had 
spoken. 

One was a man about forty, tall and stout, 
with a puffy face and yellow skin, big lips, 
an immense nose, a spherical head and 
closely clipped hair. 

The other young man had the appearance 
of a consumptive. His blond hair, very long, 
was thrown back behind his ears and threw 
in prominence his nose, which was far too 
long:. He wore a blue coat ornamented with 
gilt buttons, and his tight pantaloons seemed 
to constrain every movement he made. 


146 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


“ Gentlemen — my husband’s brother,” said 
Madame Pigounoff, in presenting her brother- 
in-law. “ Nikolai Stepanovitch, permit me 
to present the friends of my husband. Mr. 
Fouek,” waving her hand toward the oldest 
man. “ Mr. Korotchkine,” turning her bad 
eye toward the blue coat. Fouckrose slowly 
and extended his hand to Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch. His face seemed to become more 
frowning than before. The painter Korotch- 
kine, on the contrary, seized with joy the 
extended hand. He smiled amiably, tried to 
say something, stammered, blushed, and, to 
give himself countenance, blew his nose 
noisily. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch sat down between 
Fouck and Korotchkine. Sophia Petrovna 
installed herself by the painter and Sious- 
sioukolf, who kept rubbing up against her 
and nudging her every few moments. 

Madame Pigounoff, wishing to put the 
work-table in order, gathered up the scissors 
and thread and an embroidered collar. The 
servant of the Pigounoffs pretended that 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


147 


these embroideries which Madame Pigounoff 
worked at on moonlight nights, were the only 
source of income which the poor woman de- 
rived, but I do not know if we can have faith 
in this babbler, who was so fond of the cognac 
she stole from Arkadii Ivanovitch. 

Amenaida did not seem to succeed in ar- 
ranging the table. Her hands refused to 
obey her. They were trembling so much that 
she hastened to hide them under her mantilla. 

“ How are you to-day, my sister ? ” asked 
Nikolai. 

“ Very well, I thank you, brother,” re- 
sponded Madame Pigounoff, with a profound 
melancholy in her voice. 

The fact that Arkadii Ivanovitch was not 
there to receive the guests he had invited, 
troubled Nikolai seriously. He thought that, 
being the brother of the master of the house, 
it was his duty to try and amuse the others 
and efface the bad impression produced by 
the absence of his brother. 

He suddenly assumed a gay and amiable 
manner, and began to describe the impression 


148 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


that St. Petersburg had made upon him. 
But perhaps because his impressions were 
not new, or for some other reason, his efforts 
were without result, and the conversation 
languished more and more. The inquietude 
of the lady of the house grew every moment 
more poignant. 

Sophia Petrovna remained indifferent to 
what was passing around her, as she chattered 
with Sioussioukoff. 

M. Fouck was silent, now and then nod- 
ding assent with his head, and then turning to 
look at his watch. 

The painter Korotclikine attempted to mix 
in the conversation, but his efforts were un- 
fruitful, and he finished by blowing his nose 
with rage. 

“Pardon me, Mr. Fouck, but what time 
have you?” asked Nikolai, as his neighbor 
plunged his hand again in his watch-pocket. 

“ It is five o’clock,” replied Fouck with a 
glowering air. 

“ I am also five o’clock,” said Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch, stifling a sigh. “ I can’t understand 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


149 


what has happened to Arkadii. It is very 
extraordinary.” 

“ I — I don’t know what it can mean either,” 
murmured Madame Pigounoff, more dead 
than alive. 

“ It is always the same ! Always ! ” replied 
Fouek, not trying to conceal his chagrin. 

Ten minutes rolled by, and Pigounoff did 
not arrive. Most of the visitors began to feel 
the first attacks of hunger, and yet no prep- 
aration, no rolling of a table, clatter of forks 
and knives and glasses had been heard. 

In one word, the noise of preparation for a 
repast, which plunges the famished in a state 
of sweet expectancy, wuis here lacking. . 

Only the voices of the children reached the 
ears of the guests. 

“ You cannot imagine, Sophia Petrovna, 
how I love children,” said Sioussioukoff, ris- 
ing and going toward the door of the next 
room. “ Look — just look how charming they 
are at play ! Look ! Let us go in and see 
them,” with a suppliant air. 

Sophia Petrovna rose, and, addressing 


150 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


Korotchkine, who at that moment stood 
before her with his neck stretched out and 
his mouth open, demanded of him : 

“ You wish to tell me something? ” 

Korotchkine would probably have said 
something very interesting, but just at that 
moment he was seized with such a fit of 
coughing that he had to hide his face in his 
handkerchief. Madame Foufliguine rubbed 
her lips together with a mocking air, and 
turning her back went in to see the children. 

“ Sophia Petrovna,” said Sioussioukoff, as 
soon as they had entered, “ approach the 
window ; see liow beautiful the view is. 
One has a bird’s-eye view of St. Petersburg. 
It is magnificent ! ” 

He extended his hand gracefully ; his 
index finger touched the glass, as if by 
chance, and he traced an initial. 

Sophia Petrovna saw that it was an S and, 
to hide the impression the discovery made 
upon her, she turned toward the children. 

“ Ah ! ah ! ” sighed Sioussioukoff, with an 
air of melancholy. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


151 


“ What is it ? Why do you sigh ? ” 
demanded Madame Foufliguine gently. 

“ Why should I not sigh — ah ! ah ! ah ! ” 

“ But what for ? ” 

“ I am in love, Sophia Petrovna. Passion- 
ately, madly in love ! ” cried Sioussioukoff, 
placing his hand on his heart and rolling his 
eyes languorously toward the ceiling. 

“ I know ! I know ! I have remarked 
it,” ejaculated Sophia Petrovna, lowering 
her eyes. 

“ You know — you ? It is impossible ! ” 

“ You and I know who is your flame,” 
added Sophia Petrovna. 

“ It is impossible ! ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ You do not know. I swear on my honor 
you do not know. Oh, if you did know ! 
But no. You do not know. Oh ! Sophia 
Petrovna, your hair is in disorder — there, 
there,” pointing to her neck. 

Sophia Petrovna approached an old 
cracked looking-glass that hung suspended 
between the two windows. 


152 


TEE GRUEL CITY. 


“You think that because I am a provincial 
I see nothing; that I understand nothing,” 
arranging her hair. “ Believe me, I see 
everything ! I saw the first time who was 
the object of your adoration.” 

“ You do not know ! I swear on my 
honor — you do not know,” murmured Sious- 
sioukoff passionately. 

“ Well, with whom, then, are you in love \ ” 
demanded Sophia Petrovna, with a childlike 
naivete, addressing her interlocutor, who 
devoured her with his eyes. 

“ Whom ? Do you want me to tell you ? 
But do not look at me so steadily, for the 
love of God ! ” 

Sophia Petrovna turned her back. 

“No, not there — not there ! She whom I 
love is behind you — behind you ! ” 

“ But where is she ? ” said Sophia Pe- 
trovna, turning with curiosity toward the 
glass. Seeing her image she blushed, and 
stepped back, shaking her finger at him. 

Sioussioukoff was jubilant. 

“ Pay attention, Mr. Sioussioukoff, I will 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


153 


tell everything — everything ! I am a great 
gossip ! ” and she shook her finger at him 
again. 

“Whom will you tell ?” 

“ My cousin Alexandrine.” 

“ Tell her, I beg of you ! Tell her ! I shall 
be enchanted ! I am not afraid of any one ! 
At this moment I could throw myself into 
the water or into a fire ! I am ready for 
anything ! Listen, Sophia Petrovna ! ” 

“ Leave me, I beg of you ! I do not wish 
to listen. You hear, I do not wish to listen ! 
I forbid you to talk any more nonsense. 
For all you have said is nonsense, is it not ?” 
asked Sophia Petrovna, frowning, but at the 
same time preserving an expression of child- 
ish naivete on her pretty face. 

“ Tell me, rather — do you not find it strange 
that the dinner is not ready ? Does Mr. 
Korotchkine please you, and Mr. Fouck ? ” 

“ But, Sophia Petrovna ” 

“ I think the master of the house ought to 
have warned us. It is very annoying ! ” 

“ But, Sophia Petrovna ” 


154 


TEE CRUEL CITY. 


“ Besides, Arkadii Ivanovitcli is not alto- 
gether a brother of my husband’s. They 
have not seen each other since childhood. As 
far as I am concerned, I hardly know him. 
This is the first time I have come here.” 

“ And my first visit also,” cried Sioussiou- 
koff ; “ but shall I not profit by the opportu- 
nity, since you are here ? ” 

“ Again ! again ! ” interrupted Sophia Pe- 
trovna, shaking her finger at him. “ Pay at- 
tention, Mr. Sioussioukoff, or we shall have a 
quarrel.” And casting a look full of coquet- 
ry at him, she entered the salon. 

The conversation was still languishing. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch began to grow im- 
patient over the absence of his brother. He 
was so disquieted that he was afraid to look 
at his neighbor Fouck, or at Korotchkine, 
who was pulling a long face, although he tried 
occasionally to smile. To complete the scene 
Pacha came running to ask his father if they 
were not going to dine very soon, declaring 
that he was hungry. 

“Very soon, my child, very soon. Uncle 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


155 


Arkadi i will come back. Go play a little 
while longer,” casting an unquiet look at the 
mistress of the house, who felt as if she were 
about to die. 

The good Fouhiguine would have given a 
good deal to have heard at that moment 
preparations for dinner in the next room. 
But everything was silent ! 

Mr. Fouck drew out his watch again. 

“ Look here, i i is nearly six o’clock ! ” he 
cried in a loud voice, which only increased the 
terror of Madame Pigounoff. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch cast an unquiet look 
at his sister-in-law, and then dragged Mr. 
Fouck into the next room, where the children 
were playing. 

u Excuse us, in the name of Heaven, I beg 
of you, dear Mr. Fouck ! I cannot imagine 
myself what is the matter,” cried Nikolai 
Stepanovitch. “ Let us hope that no accident 
has happened to him.” 

“ He might have sent some one to tell us.” 

“Perhaps he had no one. Wait a little 
while longer, I beg of you. If nothing has 


156 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


happened he would not leave his wife in such 
a predicament.” 

“ Do you believe he thinks of her ? ” 

“ But ” 

“ He thinks of her,” said Fouck coarsely, 
“ as much as an elephant thinks of gloves ! ” 

“ Nikolai ! ” called Sophia Petrovna, show- 
ing herself at the door. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch returned in haste to 
the salon, dreading some other misfortune. 
Sophia Petrovna showed with a look the 
empty place where Madame Pigounoff had 
sat; then she turned toward the door, say- 
ing: 

“ I shall remain with the compan^ 

But Nikolai Stepanovitch did not hear the 
rest of the phrase. He rushed toward the 
door, he opened it and found himself in a 
sleeping-room, with bare walls and windows 
without curtains. Its only furniture a large 
bed and the cradle of little Apollon. 

Stretched out on the bed was Madame Pi- 
gounoff, weeping. 

“ For Heaven’s sake, calm yourself, my sis- 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


157 


ter ! He will return. It is nothing ! The 
guests are waiting patiently,” murmured 
Foufliguine, trying to comfort her. 

“It is not the first time,” said Madame 
Pigounoff, sobbing, “ it is not the first time. 
He never does otherwise — hi ! hi ! hi ! never. 
He has been gone since the morning. He 
did not even Avarn me — hi! hi! hi! He 
did not even warn me.” 

Another door opened out of the sleeping- 
room. A terrible noise was heard behind it, 
and suddenly this door opened, and Arkadii 
Ivanovitcli tumbled in. 

“ The company is there. All united — all ? ” 
he demanded with a terrified air. He looked 
around in every corner like a beast that had 
been tracked, without paying any attention 
to his wife, who rolled over on the cushions' 
and began to sob more loudly than ever. 

Hearing the voices in the parlor, Pigounoff 
seized his brother by his two hands and bore 
him into the next room, which contained not 
a vestige of furniture. Only four walls, a 
ceiling and the floor. 


158 


THE CRUEL CITY , . 


“ Brother, a great misfortune ! ” cried 
Pigounoff, in a choked voice, tearing his hair, 
while Nikolai Stepanovitcli recoiled in af- 
fright. “I will explain — everything — only 
save me ! ” he continued in such a voice that 
his brother felt shivers run down his back. 
“ They are here ! I have no dinner ! I am 
dishonored — covered with shame. Fouck 
plays the trombone in the theater — the first 
trombone. A terrible man is Korotchkine, 
too ! Save me in the name of heaven ! 
There is not a kopeck in the house. Brother 
Nikolai, save me ! ” 

Arkadii Ivanovitcli struck himself a vio- 
lent blow in the breast, extended his arms, 
struck himself again in the head, and the 
tears began to flow from his eyes as if one 
had turned on two spigots of a fountain. 

“ I see you are angry,” he said ; trying to 
embrace his brother’s knee with his arms. 
“ Yes, I deserve it; be angry; hate me; 
trample on me at your feet, but save me 
for the sake of my wife ! Think of her posi- 
tion ! You have seen her. She sobs ; do 


TEE CRUEL CITY. 


159 


you hear her sob ? ” pointing toward the door 
with a tragic gesture. 

The desperate air of Pigounoff, his pale 
and terror-stricken face, his brilliant eyes, his 
tears, his clenched fists, his broken speeches, 
would have sufficed to frighten a man much 
less gentle than Nikolai Stepanovitch. He 
hastily took out his pocket-book. 

“ Brother Nikolai ! ” cried Pigounoff, suf- 
focated beneath the weight of the tumul- 
tuous sentiments that filled him. He rose 
hastily and threw himself with violence 
into the arms of Nikolai Stepanovitch, 
whom lie pressed many times against his 
heart ; then drying his tears, he said, in a 
lively voice : 

“ Five children, you, your wife, nidotclika , 
Fouck, Sioussioukoff and Korotchkine ; 
twelve persons in all ! Give me fifteen 
rubles and we are saved ! ” he continued, 
while Nikolai Stepanovitch searched for the 
sum demanded. “ To-day is Wednesday. 
Saturday I shall receive the money of which 
I spoke. Possibly I shall receive it to-day. 


160 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


Yes, that might happen. I will give it all 
back to you, even to the last kopeck.” 

“ But how will you manage, since the din- 
ner is not prepared ? ” 

“ Oh ! calm yourself. That will be all 
right,” cried Pigounoff, who had recovered all 
his gayety as soon as the money had passed 
into his hands. “ I shall send it in right 
away from the restaurant. It is right op- 
posite. Everything will go off like a charm ! ” 
Hardly had he finished the speech before 
he disappeared. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch went to rejoin Ma- 
dame Pigounoff, who was still crying, her face 
buried in the pillows. Finding that all efforts 
to console her were useless, there was nothing 
left to do but rejoin the others. 

“ Gentlemen,” said Nikolai Stepanovitch, on 
the threshold of the salon, “ I ask a thousand 
pardons. Arkadii has just come in. Some- 
thing unexpected happened. I hope that 
you will be kind enough to excuse him.” 

Hardly had he finished before Pigounoff 
entered the salon on a run, extending his 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


1G1 


arms and regarding the assembly lov- 
ingly. 

“ Gentlemen, you will certainly excuse 
me, because it is not my fault. I swear to 
you that it is not my fault. We shall dine 
right away. I am enchanted to see you, my 
dear friends. Karl Ivanovitch [and Pigou- 
noff embraced Fouck] ; Korotchkine [throw- 
ing himself into the arms of the painter] ; Si- 
oussioukoff [pressing the hand of the young 
man warmly] ; children ! No, I will em- 
brace you after dinner. Now we must hurry.” 

And Pigounoff fled as fast as his legs would 
carry him. Five minutes later the servant 
from the restaurant appeared. Pigounoff had 
promised him a ruble for his pains, and he 
brought the tablecloth and the napkins neces- 
sary. With the aid of the servant, the table 
was dressed in a few seconds. 

Arkadii Ivanovitch helped him, while talk- 
ing at the same time to the others. lie ap- 
proached eacli guest successively, pressed his 
hand, and made excuses. In one word, he 
conducted himself so charmingly, that the 


162 


T1IE CRUEL CITY. 


painter, Korotchkine, in spite of liis hunger, 
was ready to wait an hour longer, just to 
please him. 

Several minutes later the servant entered 
with a large soup-tureen. The maid followed 
with a plate of little pates. 

“ Ladies and gentlemen, the soup is served,” 
cried the master of the house, in a sonorous 
voice. “ I must only apologize to you in ad- 
vance. I was not able to superintend the 
dinner personally. I do not know if it is 
good, but you must take pot-luck, as they 
say. I hope, as friends, you will not be ex- 
acting. You will also excuse the mistress of 
the house, who is unable to assist at the din- 
ner. Her position you can understand. She 
is in despair, I can assure you. Sit down, my 
friends, sit down ! ” 

The guests attacked with eagerness the 
soup, which, to tell the truth, was not very 
good, but hunger made it possible to swallow. 
Besides, Pigounoff talked without a moment’s 
pause, and did not give any one time to think 
of what they were eating. His words were 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


163 


at times ironic, and at times gay, when he 
mocked at the usages of high life, and when, 
with tears in his eyes, he thanked the com- 
pany for being willing to share his modest re- 
past. 

Nikolai Sfepanovitch, in his position as 
brothei* of the house, tried, on his part, to 
keep up the spirit of the occasion, but not 
possessing the eloquence of his brother, he 
contented himself with smiling and making 
gestures of approbation and sudden bursts 
of laughter, for no reason at all. 

Karl Ivanovitch Fouck and the painter 
Korotchkine w^ere too absorbed in their din- 
ner to take active part in the conversation. 
In revenue Sioussioukotf showed himself 
worthy of his Amphytrion. 

He recounted with a good deal of spirit 
how a certain person had made his conquest. 
Then he encountered another (at the same 
time touching the foot of Sophia Petrovna 
under the table), who made him forget the 
world, society, and the danger that he incur- 
red. The ideal woman whom he had met 


1(34 


THE CRUEL CITY, 


was married. It was probable, it was almost 
certain, that she loved her husband — what 
was there left for him to do? Lead a sad 
and solitary life or finish everything at a 
blow ? 

Saying this, Sioussioukoff raised his fist 
toward his face, and clacked his tongue with 
a melancholy air. Sophia Petrovna felt at 
the smne moment a foot touch her bottine. 
Unfortunately, the recital of Sioussioukoff 
was interrupted by the entrance of the ser- 
vant, who laid a plate of cutlets on the table. 
There were twelve, one for each person. 
Each took the portion that was intended for 
him, except Arkadii, who gave his to Fouck. 
The latter accepted the sacrifice without 
restraint. The conversation relaxed for 
several seconds. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch generally wielded a 
good fork and knife, and while the beginning 
of the meal was not very promising, he began 
to ask himself what was coming after the 
cutlets, when some one touched his knee 
under the table. He raised his eyes and 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


165 


saw Arkadii Ivanovitch making si<ms to 

o o 

him. 

“You will excuse me, ladies and gentle- 
men,” said Pigounoff. “I must disappear 
for a few moments to give some orders.” 
He smiled amiably and walked toward the 
salon. 

“ Brother,” he called, “ my wife wants to 
see you a minute. Excuse us, gentlemen ! ” 
and he disappeared again. 

“ I read your thoughts,” said Pigounoff, 
when his brother rejoined him. “You found 
that the soup and the cutlets made a light 
meal.” 

“ What ! Is there nothing more ? ” asked 
Foufliguine, in astonishment. 

“ It was impossible ! ” said Pigounoff with 
energy, assuming a preoccupied air. “ I had 
a little debt in that restaurant — that is not I, 
but my wife. The restaurant-keeper, a regu- 
lar swindler, deducted the bill ; happily there 
remained enough to pay for the soup and the 
cutlets. If matters had been otherwise it 
would have killed her,” pointing mysteri- 


1 66 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


ously to the door of tlie sleeping-room. 
“ But everything can be arranged,” he added 
with vivacity — “We must buy two bottles of 
port, not d^ear — at two rubles the bottle. 
Then, what do you think ? If we were to get 
some little cakes — they only cost live kopecks 
apiece. That would be quite sufficient. As 
for the money, you can be tranquil. Satur- 
day, I shall pay you everything — I am a man 
very exact. Look here ! ” 

Pigounoff plunged his hand rapidly in his 
pocket, and brought out an old pocket-book, 
from which he produced a paper and showed 
it to his brother. 

“ I never have any disorder in my ac- 
counts ; you see it is all written down. The 
7th of May, received of my brother, 100 ru- 
bles — then 35 rubles. I have set down in 
the same way what you advanced me to day. 
And Saturday, or sooner, perhaps even to- 
day, or sooner, I will return it, and now 
hurry back in the name of Heaven ; they are 
waiting for us.” 

Nikolai Stepano vitck hastened to give him 


TUE GRUEL CITY. 


167 


the money, and returned to the dining- 
room. 

The cutlets had been eaten some time ago : 
the guests were beginning to look at each 
other in astonishment, when suddenly Pi- 
gounoff appeared with a bottle of wine in 
each hand. Behind him came a servant with 
a platter of cakes. 

. “ Well, my friends,” cried Arkadii gayly — 
“ as I warned you, pot luck ! I can recom- 
mend this port; it is excellent. The cakes 
are very fresh, too. Now, no ceremony, I beg 
of you.” 

Having tilled the glasses, Pigounoff became 
again animated, and began to talk with the 
eloquence that characterized him, of art and 
his beloved Italy. 

“ Another glass, friend Fouck,” he said, 
pouring out more win-e for the old man, who 
did not protest. “ That will do you good ; 
you need not be afraid to drink good wine. 
You are not a singer. You are neither a Mario 
nor a Rubini, who must take care of their 
golden voices. Oh, what happy moments 


108 


TEE CRUEL CITY. 


I have passed listening to tliose great artists ! 
Korotchkine—” here Pigounoff addressed the 
painter, on whose face a beatific smile was 
hovering — “ you, friend Korotchkine, cheered 
me with your last portrait — you really filled 
me with delight. I could not tear my eyes 
away from it. Bless Providence, who has 
given you such a talent ! No ceremony — have 
another glass. It is not the kind of wine one 
drinks in Rome at Lepri’s, which are served 
in the folietti , but it is not bad wine. Sious- 
sioukoff, have you seen the copies of Raphael 
which Mikhailoff has bought ? No ? I 
regret it. Some more wine. My sister, 
when are we going to the academy ? Have 
another biscuit, it is made with preserves. 
Nikolai, do not forget that Saturday we go to 
see 4 Hamlet.’ You have never seen Shake- 
speare. That’s a pleasure before you. Take 
this little cake, or do you prefer the 
port ? ” 

When the last biscuit was eaten by the 
children and the bottles were empty, Fouck 
took out his watch again and announced that 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


169 


it was nearly eight o’clock, and that he should 
have been at the theater long ago. 

The painter Korotchkine also took up his 
hat. He was visibly tormented by his own 
silence, and this ’torment was more acute be- 
cause of his tight trousers, which hindered his 
slightest movement. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch also declared that it 
was time to go. He would gladly remain 
longer, but his wife did not feel very well. 
As for allowing her to go home with the 
children in a hired carriage, that was out of 
the question. 

“ Nikolai Stepanovitch,” said Sioussioukoff, 
while pressing his hand with effusion, “I 
hope you will allow me to come and 
see you ? ” glancing tenderly at Sophia 
Petrovna. 

“ Ah, certainly ! I shall be enchanted. 
Only not to-morrow, in the name of Pleaven,” 
added Foufliguine, remembering the - counsel 
of Mirzoeff. “ We shall be absent all day. 
Any other time I shall be happy.” 

He explained his wish to say good-by to the 


170 


THE GRUEL CITY 


lady of the house, which brought fresh tears 
to the eyes of Pigounoff. Amenaida Vassili- 
evna had ceased crying, but she did not seem 
much better. Her face, mortally pale, was 
frequently contracted by nervous spasms. 
She was so feeble that she had difficulty in 
shaking hands with Foufliguine and his wife, 
who tried to calm her with the assurance that 
everything had passed off very well. They 
would come to see her in a few days. During 
this interview Arkadii Ivanovitcli stood be- 
hind the bed, his face distracted. Abundant 
tears rolled down his cheeks and glistened in 
his whiskers. 

They passed into the salon, and seeing 
Arkadii had his velvet cap in his hands, they 
begged him not to accompany them, but re- 
main with his wife. 

“ I am not going to accompany you,” he 
said, “ but I have a number of errands to do 
to-day,” in a voice of emotion. “ I must go 
out. I must ! You understand, brother 
Nikolai, what that word means ! ” 

“ But can you not wait until to-morrow ? 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


m 


Your wife is in such a state. You would do 
much better to remain with her ! 

“ It is impossible ! ” interrupted Pigounoff, 
and closing the door of the salon, he con- 
tinued : “ It is the impossibility which is kill- 

ing me. Yes, you see before you a man, who, 
in one word — but we will not speak of it. 
Let us go ! ” he concluded, sighing deeply, and 
after embracing tenderly Yassia, Polinik, and 
Sonia, he followed his relatives. 

I cannot tell you what was the subject of 
conversation of the Fouiliguines as they rode 
home ; half-way there Sophia Petrovna was 
seized with the idea of going to the Spring 
Garden. 

It was only eight o’clock; the night was 
beautiful, why not ? Nikolai Stepanovitch 
was too preoccupied to notice what was going 
on around him, but he was afraid of irritating 
his wife on the eve of such an important day. 
He declared he should be enchanted to ac- 
company her to the Spring Garden. The 
children embraced their parents and clapped 
their hands all along the way. 


172 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


Tlieir joy increased when they found them- 
selves under the shadow of the linden trees 
and began to run along the alleys, filled with 
children of all ages. 

A sweet peace filled the soul of Nikolai 
Stepanovitch. After having walked about a 
hundred paces, he felt a desire to communi- 
cate his impressions to his wife, who declared 
that she understood him very well, and for 
that reason she had wished to bring him to 
the Spring Garden, and that she was always 
right, and that he would be always happy 
and tranquil if he made the resolution never 
to contradict her and always be of her 
opinion. 

With such agreeable conversation the hus- 
band and wife did not notice how time Avas 
passing. They remained in the garden until 
the gates were bemg closed. Finding them- 
selves in one of the alleys that led toward 
the river, they left by the quay. 

It was one of those white nights, such as 
one only sees in the north in the month of 
May. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


173 


The pinnacle of the Fortress of St. Peter 
and St. Paul, the Bourse, the bridges, the 
spars of the shipping, were enveloped in a 
violet nimbus, and were reflected in the Neva, 
which seemed to have paused in its majestic 
course, and had the aspect of a colossal mirror. 

To the right appeared the moon, sur- 
rounded by a semi-transparent atmosphere. 
All this side of the stream was flooded with 
these magic rays, and the little chateaux ap- 
peared like fantastic shadows. 

The rolling noise of the carriages, the con- 
versation and cries of the passers-by, were 
softened by this immensity of space of water 
and of air. 

“ What a marvelous tableau ! What a spec- 
tacle grand and solemn,” cried Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch, throwing his head back and clos- 
ing his eyes. 

“ Do you know, my friend,” said Sophia 
Petrovna tenderly, under the spell of this 
beautiful spring night, “ the night is so sweet 
that it would be really a shame to go home 
now. It is not late. Let us walk along the 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


m 

quay. The Morskaia is on the other side ; 
we are not far from the house.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch was quite ready to 
accept this proposition. 

At each step they were recompensed for 
the fatigue of their long walk. The Foufli- 
guines decided that there was no city so beau- 
tiful or so poetic as St. Petersburg. 

Sophia Petrovna felt a shiver of horror at 
the very thought of the country. Nikolai 
Stepanovitch was entirely of her opinion, and 
rejoiced to think that now they would never 
leave the city. Arrived at the boulevard of 
the Admiralty, they found that the children 
were not tired, and decided to enjoy the 
panorama of the Neva as far as the St. Nich- 
olas bridge. 

Half an hour later they arrived at the end 
of their promenade. 

“ Children, look at that house ; how bril- 
liantly it is lighted ! ” said Foufliguine, wishing 
to distract the children, who looked sleepy ; 
showing them a great building, whose lower 
floor was illuminated within and without. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


1V5 


The children looked up for a moment, and 
Nikolai profited by the occasion to cross the 
street and approach the beautiful house. 

“ It must be a grand cafe,” said Sophia Pe- 
trovna, casting a look in the window. u What 
splendor ! Heavens ! ” she cried suddenly. 
“ Nikolai, look ! It is Arkadii Ivanovitch.” 

The pair glued their faces to the window. 

In a large red room, brilliantly lit, Pigou- 
noff was seated comfortably on a sofa, before 
a well spread table. The face of Arkadii 
particularly attracted his brother’s attention. 
Framed by a white napkin, it seemed larger 
than usual. It expressed perfect beatitude. 
In casting a look at the table, Nikolai per- 
ceived a plate of large truffles covered with 
sauce. At the side stood a gilded bottle, half 
empty. Arkadii, from time to time, carried 
his glass to his lips, smacked his tongue, and 
closed his eyes with pleasure. 

“ He must have received his money,” mur- 
mured Foufliguine. “ He told me he hoped 
to get it to-day.” 

“ It would have been better had he carried 


i 76 


THE CRUEL CITY, \ 


it home,” said Sophia Petrovna, going away 
from the window. “ You saw in what 
misery they were plunged. He’s a good 
husband, he. His wife ill, his children 
starving, and he eating truffles ! ” 

“ My dear, he just stepped in while pass- 
ing. He has probably been running about 
all the evening, and, being fatigued, entered 
to eat a morsel.” 

“ And the truffles, and the bottle with the 
gilt top ! ” 

“ Perhaps that was all he found ready, and 
he was in a hurry to return to the house,” 
said Nikolai, whom the walk had rendered 
very conciliating. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch took the hand of 
Lecha, who could no longer keep up with the 
others. Sophia took Pacha, whose head hung 
drooping, and they both disappeared in the 
direction of the Grand Morskaia. 

It was time ! 


CHAPTER VII. 


A CLOUD APPEARS IN THE HORIZON BUT A 

ZEPHYR IN THE FORM OF COUSIN MIRZOEFF 

DISPELS IT. 

The day when the very respected founder 
of the Society for the Amelioration and Prop- 
agation of Horned Beasts, Andrei Andre- 
vitch Mediolanski, presented himself before 
Sophia Petrovna — the same day Piotre Pie- 
trovitch Mirzoeif distributed more than five 
thousand rubles to the stockholders of the 
society. 

The distribution of such a sum was natu- 
rally an honor to the society, but it did not 
belong to Piotre Pietrovitch, and he found no 
pleasure in his task. 

We will say more. 

The very respected Piotre Pietrovitch was 
irritated because he had to pass the entire 
morning in the office of the company. At 

177 


178 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


half-past twelve Mediolanski would make his 
call on Madame Foufliguine ; perhaps at this 
moment he was there. IIow would their 
interview terminate ? Had Sophia Petrovna 
brought the affair to a successful close ? 
Had she obtained for him the place as man- 
ager ? 

All these questions worried Cousin Mir- 
zoeff for the rest of the day. When the dis- 
tribution was made, I will have you to imag- 
ine with what haste he closed the great iron 
safe and hurried to leave his post. 

Arrived at the Hotel de Paris, he asked 
the domestic first if there were any visitors 
with Nikolai Stepanovitch. 

He received a negative response, and en- 
tered. 

What struck him first was, that all the 
rooms were wide open, and at the end he saw 
Nikolai Stepanovitch striding up and. down, 
with his hands behind his back. 

His cheeks, his eyes, his nose, his bald 
head, all contributed to give to his benign 
face an expression of profound emotion. 


THE CRUEL CITY, \ 


179 


“ Piotre Pietrovitch,” lie cried, at the sight 
of his cousin, “ all is lost ! ” 

“ Great heavens, what has happened ? ” 
cried Mirzoeff, trying to preserve his dignified 
manner. He was such a master of himself 
that he was able to arrange his glasses and 
lay his hat on the table. 

“ Yes, all is lost ! ” continued Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch with animation. “ I acted just as 
you advised me. I left the house this morn- 
ing at ten o’clock, taking the children with 
me. Mediolanski arrived at one o’clock. But 
that gamin,” howled with rage the gentle 
Foufliguine, “ that gamin ruined every- 
thing ! ” 

“ What gamin ?” 

u My nephew.” 

“ Svistcheff ? ” 

"Yes. Just imagine; hardly had Medio- 
lanski installed himself on the sofa beside 
my wife, than Coco plunged into the 
room.” 

“ Well,” said the cousin discontentedly, 
“ why did you not warn the servant ? Why 


180 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


did you not lock tlie door ? I told you all 
this before.” 

“ All precautions were taken,” replied Fou- 
fliguine, with vivacity — “ but the boy forced 
his way in. How did I know ? Mediolanski 
made an observation — very natural, an 
observation. Coco told him that his con- 
duct was not gentlemanly. Just imagine ! 
The very thought makes me shiver ; just 
imagine ! But no ; guess what that boy 
did ! ” 

“ Oh, great heavens ! ” 

“ You see me in despair. He told Medio- 
lanski that he would throw him out of the 
window. Yes, he said that ! ” 

When he heard this Piotre Pietrovitch 
(for the first time in his life perhaps) lost his 
perpendicular, and recoiled so suddenly that 
his glasses fell off. 

“ Oh ! it is frightful, is it not ? ” cried 
Nikolai Stepanovitch. “Mediolanski rose at 
once and rushed to the door, after expressing 
to my wife his indignation. He did not 
even bow in going out.” 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


181 


“ Where is your wife ? ” demanded Piotre 
Pietrovitch impatiently. 

“ She has gone out with Alexandra Seme- 
novna. She was greatly disturbed her- 
self.” 

Piotre Pietrovitch crossed his hands be- 
hind his back, and began striding up and 
down the room. Nikolai Stepanovitch did 
the same. In the middle of the room they 
met and made way for each other. 

“ What a gamin, ah ! ” cried Foulliguine. 

“ Canaille ! ” added Mirzoeff. 

“ Pie ought to be whipped ! ” 

“ He should have his ears pulled ! ” 

“ Box his ears ! ” 

“ Tear his hair ! ” 

“ Beat- him until he could not stand ! ” 

“ Whip him to death ! ” 

The indignation which had prompted 
Nikolai Stepanovitch to utter such menaces 
did not last very long. As soon as the fire 
of his anger had abated (the tender nature of 
his soul was not capable of storing much 
rage) he became discouraged, and throwing 


182 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


himself on a sofa buried his face in his 
hands. 

Piotre Pietro vitch, who always knew how 
to control himself, had already returned to 
calmness. His hands were still behind his 
back, but he walked up and down slowly and 
seriously. 

u Piotre Pietro vitch, you see me in despair,” 
murmured Nikolai Stepanovitch, with emo- 
tion. “All is lost! What is to be done 
now ? Great God, what is to be done now ?” 

“ These are only empty words,” replied 
Mirzoeff calmly, approaching the sofa. 
“ Words and regrets are equally useless in 
this affair.” 

“ But what can I do, Piotre Pietrovitch. 
It is clear that Mediolanski will not accord 
the position now ! ” 

“Yes, that’s very clear,” said Mirzoeff, in a 
cold and serious voice. “ I repeat that, with- 
out that place, I can do nothing for you.” 

The blood mounted to the face of Fou- 
fliguine,who buried his head in his hands. 

“ I repeat to you that if you would be con- 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


183 


tent with two hundred rubles I could get 
you into this society, and with a good deal of 
pains, because I am a new arrival ; but your 
position obliges you to take a respectable 
place. And for that I must have great 
influence .’ 7 

“ Piotre Pietrovitch , 77 said Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch suddenly. “All my hope is in you. 
Without a place I am lost. I will not hide 
from you that my position is precarious. I 
have very little money left . 77 

“ Plow much ? 77 asked the other, with 
voracity. 

“ Nearly — nearly two thousand rubles . 77 

The face of Mirzoeff resumed its tran- 
quillity. 

“ But that is all my fortune ! 77 added Nik- 
olai Stepano vitch. “ Without a place I am 
lost ! I cannot go on. Piotre Pietrovitch, 
judge for yourself. Charged with a family, 
I am lost, lost ! Piotre Pietrovitch ! 77 

“ I know all that very well, my good 
friend. That is why I have taken so much 
trouble to get that position for myself, so 


184 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


that I might find a situation worthy of 
you.” 

“ Ah, Piotre Pietro vitch ! ” 

“ Calm yourself, I beg of you ! There is 
nothing to despair over ; the affair can be 
arranged, and you are the man to arrange it.” 

“ You give me new life ! What must I 
do?” 

“ You must act, my good friend, you must 
act ! ” cried the cousin, with energy. 

“ But how ? Tell me ! I am ready for 
anything ! ” 

“ How ? Why you must again try Medio- 
lanski.” 

“ Great Heaven ! my wife would never 
consent to address him again. Not for 
the world ! ” cried Foufliguine, seized with 
despair. 

“ It is no longer a question of your wife.” 

“How? Must I ” 

“ No. That would be still more useless.” 

“ Alexandra Semenovna ? ” 

Piotre Pietrovitch made a negative sign 
with his head. Plis peruque, thus shaken, ex- 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


185 


haled an odor of cheap cologne through the 
room. 

“ There is another woman who might lend 
you a helping hand,” he said, casting a scru 
tinizing look at his cousin. “ In this affah 
your nephew might be useful to a certain 
point. He has spoilt the affair; it is only 
right that he should arrange it.” 

“ Oh, certainly ! If it is only that, I shall 
insist ; I shall order him to do it,” said Niko- 
lai Stepanovitcli, gesticulating as if to dispel 
the mists which filled his brain. 

“ But who is she ? Who is the woman ? ” 

“We have no need to occupy ourselves 
with her social position. It suffices to know 
that she is named Katerina Mikhailovna. I 
know from a certain source that she has a 
great influence over Mediolanski. The old 
man, as I told you, submits willingly to the 
tyranny of women. He has been in love 
with her for the past year or more, and obeys 
her slightest caprice. When she went to see 
her relations in Moscow — she has only been 
back for a few days — he was very uucpiiet 


186 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


during her absence. He wrote to her, it seems, 
twice a day. In one word, you understand, 
they say that she is very light, but that does 
not concern you. It is absolutely necessary 
that you should make her acquaintance. 
That will be very easy, because Svistclieff 
knows her well. That gamin knows the whole 
world. I know a number of people who have 
found places in our society through her in- 
fluence. I am sure she will do anything you 
ask of her. It goes without saying that, on 
your part, you must make yourself agreeable. 
As it is usually done — you understand, Niko- 
lai Stepanovitch ? ” 

“ I understand, but ■” 

“ I know what you are going to say — that 

Sophia Petrovna ” 

“ Yes, I will not conceal from you that that 
idea bothered me. You know — women.” 

u That’s true. But what was prudence 
given you for, my friend ? Why were you 
given intelligence ? You must act as circum- 
spectly as possible. Sophia Petrovna need sus- 
pect nothing. What else is there to be done, 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


187 


when the circumstances force us to act thus ? 
It is useless to warn you that Coco must not 
know why you wish to be presented to this 
woman. He will gossip about it. Just tell 
him you have seen her and would like to 
know her. Nothing more. 

“ Pretend to be one of the boys ; a bon vi- 
vant , and he will be enchanted to render you 
such a service. As for Katerina Mikhailovna, 
you can talk to her with an open heart. Make 
your demand ; it will not be the first time that 
she has arranged affairs of this kind. I am sure 
she will grant everything, if you have gallan- 
try. In one word, you understand. I repeat 
that your nomination depends on mine. You 
must act at once. Now you see that there is 
really nothing to feel desperate about.” 

u You restore me to life, Piotre Pietrovitch. 
I was completely discouraged,” murmured 
Nikolai Stepanovitch, pressing his cousin’s 
hand warmly. - “ As you say, there is no time 
to lose,” rising from the sofa ; “ I shall go in 
search of that little wretch Coco, at once.” 

“ That’s perfect, and I shall go to the club 


188 


HIE CRUEL CITY. 


of the society — I am one of the oldest mem- 
bers, and to-day they have a reunion. As 
soon as you have had an interview with that 
lady, you will communicate the result, will 
you not ? My counsels were not de trop! ” 

“ Oh, thanks ! a thousand thanks ! ” cried 
Nikolai Stepanovitch, with effusion. 

Ten minutes later he took a fiacre to call 
on his nephew, but Coco was not at home. 

Nikolai only found an old valet de cliambre , 
who had carried his master in his arms. Of 
old, this ancient had been the principal orna- 
ment among the servants of Nikolai’s father. 
At the marriage of his daughter the old 
man had been given with the rest of the lot. 

He knew our hero since his birth, and re- 
joiced to see him: At any other time Nikolai 
Stepanovitch would have been glad to stop 
and talk with him over the good old times, 
but now he had other ideas in his head. The 
present absorbed all his thoughts, and he had 
no time to think of anything else. 

He said lie would return at ten o’clock in 
the evening and to tell his nephew to wait 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


189 


for him, or at least leave some address where 
he might be found. • 

Nikolai Stepanovitch felt that he must act 
energetically. Money was disappearing with 
an incredible rapidity. 

The Nevsky Perspective, toward which he 
directed his steps — the Perspective with its 
tumult, its crowds of promenaders — produced 
no effect on the troubled soul of Foufli- 
guine. 

“ Nikolai ! Brother ! my soul ! ” 

These exclamations, which followed each 
other like the reports of a pistol, cut short 
the ideas which had accumulated in the brain 
of Nikolai Stepanovitch. Hardly had he 
time to turn, than Pigounoff passed his arm 
through that of his brother. 

“ My wife and myself saw you taking sup- 
per in a cafe last night near the Nicholas 
Bridge,” said Foufliguine, when Pigounoff had 
finished his exclamations of delight. 

The joy of Pigounoff witnessed his im- 
mense affection for his brother. Precisely 
this meeting, this meeting only, was enough 


190 


TllE CRUEL CITY. 


to make him forget the sorrow and melan- 
choly in which he was plunged at that 
moment. 

He subsided, as if by enchantment, when 
his brother spoke of the restaurant. 

“ Oh, yes ! I entered the cafe. I was 
crushed by fatigue. Hunger tormented me,” 
responded Arkadii, regarding his brother 
sadly, and dragging on his arm as if he were 
still dying of hunger. 

“ And I rejoiced for you,” said Nikolai 
Stepanovitch. “ I thought you had received 
the money you expected.” 

Pigounoff sighed so profoundly that several 
passers-by turned around. 

“ I was cruelly deceived. I received a 
little on account; I shall not receive the 
entire sum until Saturday,” he hastened to 
add ; seeing the inquietude depicted on his 
brother’s face. “ I was in a hurry to get back 
to the house. You know in what a con- 
dition, last night, I left nidotclika. I wished 
to hurry back to her — but hunger tormented 
me ! T was crushed with fatigue ; I entered 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


101 


tlie first restaurant I saw, and took the first 
tiling I found under my hand.” 

“ You know kow you are, Arkadii ; you 
complain of not having any money, and you 
squander it without reason. Why could you 
not wait five minutes and ask for a plate of 
meat or something else. You would not wait ; 
and you took truffles y which are very dear.” 

“Did I have any head to think of that! 
Remember how I left nidotchha ! I was in 
haste to rejoin her and console her.” 

“Come now, Arkadii, come now! After 
what I have seen ! Pardon me, dear friend,” 
added Foufiiguine, who had not the same 
reasons for being; indulgent as lie had the 

o o 

night before. “You have not the respect 
and affection for your wife which she merits. 
Think of yesterday ! You did not care for 
her ! you did not have the slightest regard for 
her ! ” 

“ That is just ! That is altogether just,” 
cried Pigounoff, with a repentant air, squeez- 
ing his brother’s hand. “You are right, a 
hundred times right ! I do not take care of 


192 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


her. I torment her, I even kill her ! Yes, I 
merit, I merit your indignation ! When I 
think of all the humiliations that angelic 
woman has endured through me — I begin to 
despair myself. But listen well, my brother 
Nikolai, I speak to your heart ; think of my 
position and of me as well. I will not justify 
myself ; I know that I have acted like a mon- 
ster ! But listen to me well — all that would 
not have taken place. I swear it in the name 
of God most high, all that would not have 
taken place — listen ! [Pigounoff cast a look 
at his brother with his moist eyes and 
squeezed his hand.] That woman is an 
ang*d, but she does not understand me. I 
am incomprehensible to her. Sometimes I 
have come home, peaceable and communi- 
cative ; I wished to find sympathy, to speak 
with an open heart. Well, do you think I 
was understood ! No ! I found not the 
slightest sympathy. I only found com- 
plaints, the tears of the children and misery 
— and the spectacle was killing me. I fled 
from the house. O Nikolai, you have 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


103 


never known what it is, not to be under- 
stood ! the tears of children who are hungry ! 
a — and the complaints of a feeble wife, 
nervous, ill, whom you adore, for whom you 
would sacrifice a hundred lives ! No, you 
know nothing of that, and may God preserve 
you from a similar position ! ” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch, who was a happy 
man, ignored, it is true, what it was to be 
misunderstood by his wife, so he did not 
know how to reply. Pigounoff was too 
much moved to speak further. He was 
afraid to open his mouth, for fear of sobbing. 

“ Listen, my brother,” said Nikolai Stepan- 
ovitch after a few moments’ silence. “ Why 
do you not find some occupation ? Why, I 
came here to create for myself a posi- 
tion. I traveled a thousand versts for 
that. AVhy do you not do the same? 
Mirzoeff says ” 

“ My soul ! ” interrupted Pigounoff, with im- 
patience. “ Mirzoeff is a person without a 
heart ! A being, cold, glacial, an egoist to 
the last degree. Can he understand the 


194 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


flight of a soul oppressed with sorrow ? His 
soul is only capable of understanding that 
everything is calculative ! Cold calculation, 
and nothing else ! ” 

Having finished Pigounoff was silent. 

“Have you dined?” asked Foufliguine 
suddenly. 

“ No.” 

“ Neither have I.” 

They walked on in silence. 

“I begin to feel the first symptoms of 
hunger.” 

“ Me too.” 

“ My wife has gone with her cousin. I 
never enjoy a dinner alone.” 

“ Oh, it’s impossible ! When I am alone I 
cannot swallow a spoonful of soup,” said 
Pigounoff, blinking his eyes, which were be- 
ginning to dry. 

“I content myself with some piece of 
meat.” 

“ I too. I am satisfied with anything that 
comes under my hand.” 

“ But here is a restaurant,” said Nikolai 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


195 


Stepanovitch, stopping before Dusseau’l 
“Let us enter.” 

“ May God preserve you ! ” interrupted 
Pigounoff quickly. “We sliall encounter a 
million people tliere, and I warn you before- 
hand that it is very dear. Here is another 
establishment,” pointing toward a house 
opposite. “ It is cheaper and much more 
quiet.” 

“ Borel,” * read Nikolai Stepanovitch. 

“ Yes, Borel, Borel ! ” murmured Pigounoff, 
seizing his brother amicably by the arm. 

A moment later the hospitable door of 
the restaurant opened before the two visit- 
ors. They traversed the first room where 
the bar stood, and entered the second room. 
The first object that attracted the attention 
of the two brothers was Coco, seated on a 
sofa beside a fat gentleman, whom Foufli- 
guine had seen before, and who called I u 111- 
self Loupandine. Three other elderly men 
surrounded Coco. 

* This is the most expensive restaurant in St. 
Petersburg. — Translator. 


196 THE CRUEL C1TT. 

“ Ah, my uncle ! bravo ! bravisslmo ! ” 
cried Coco, rising and clapping bis bands. 
“Gentlemen, let me present to you my uncle, 
not from America, but from tbe provinces. 
And Pigounoff, be was with you, I think ; 
where is be ? ” 

Nikolai Stepanov itcb turned, but Pigou- 
noff bad disappeared. Pie was not to be 
found in tbe other room, where they went to 
look for him. 

“Let him go. Tbe devil has flown off 
with him ! Let me kiss you on both your 
cheeks for tbe delightful surprise you have 
given me ! I wanted to ask you to this 
dinner, but instead I encountered Medio- 
lanski. Just imagine, be was paying court 
to my aunt ! Yes, I swear ! I told him 
some pretty things. I did it out of com- 
miseration for my aunt Sophia, who did 
not seem enchanted with tbe tete-a-tete, 
and for tbe personal antipathy I bear that 
old crust, and thirdly for my friendship 
for Katerina Mikhailovna, who has reason 
to suspect his infidelities. But to the 


TEE GRUEL CITY. 


197 


devil with all that ! I trust that you 
have not dined ? ” 

“ Yes, I have dined,” responded the uncle 
decidedly, fearing instinctively the company, 
and afraid of the great expenses which inev- 
itably followed a bachelor dinner. “ I assure 
you that I have already dined,” he repeated. 

“ The devil ! What a bother ; can you 
not begin again ? ” 

“ No, I am not capable.” 

“ Well, at least stay with us and drink 
champagne.” 

“ I assure you that I cannot. I should be 
delighted, but I cannot,” replied the uncle. 
“ I only came in here by chance.” 

“ Get out ! It’s because Pigounoff brought 
you. I know all his farces. When I was 
young he took me from cafe to cafe under all 
sorts of pretexts. Loupandine, isn’t that 
true ? Say, Berendeef ? ” 

Loupandine and Berendeef approved of the 
words of S vis tch elf, and the others nodded 
assent. 

“ You see I am right,” said Coco, smiling. 


198 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


“ This Pigounoff is an animal. Such a 
pig ” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch seized Coco by the 
hand. 

“ Come in here a moment,” he said, in a 
low voice. “ I have a few words to say to 
you.” 

“Listen, Coco,” he said, when they found 
themselves in the neighboring room. “ Are 
you not ashamed ? Ah, Pigounoff is my 
brother, and consequently your uncle.” 

“ Oh, look here, uncle ! I repeat to you lie 
is a pig ! Ask any of the gentlemen who are 
dining with me. He owes enormous sums to 
them all ; that is why he fled. Who is with- 
out debts? We all of us have debts, but he 
has a way — he — he makes us ashamed of 
ourselves — of you, of myself and ” 

“ All the same, hum, hum, hum ! You are 
his relative — truly. Ah, yes ! apropos,” 
added Nikolai Stepanovitch, conquering his 
discontent, and smiling in a conciliating man- 
ner. “ You spoke of Katerina Mikhailovna — 
do you know her well ? ” 


THE GRUEL GUY. 


199 


“Do I know her? We are a pair of old 
friends. Have you met lier ? ” 

“ Yes — I have met her ; she is charming.” 
“Ah ! I should think so. You have ^ood 
taste, uncle,” clapping his hands, while Fou- 
fliguine looked around him furtively. “ Do 
you wish me to present you to her ? ” 

“ Why not ? I should be enchanted,” 
responded Nikolai. 

He had no need to force himself to look 
smiling. The very idea that Katerina Mik- 
hailovna would be able to arrange the affair 
that had been tormenting him, filled his 
heart with joy. ' 

“ That’s perfect ! ” cried Coco. 

“Only listen, my friend,” added Nikolai 
Stepanovitch, in an insinuating tone. “I 
shall certainly be glad to make her acquaint- 
ance, and at the same time beg you to pro- 
cure me the occasion. But you understand, 
in my position, it is necessary to be prudent. 
I conjure you, in the name of Heaven, let this 
be a secret between us two. Do you under- 
stand, Coco ? ” 


200 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


“ I shall be dumb as a carp. I swear on 
my honor. W ell, when shall we arrange it ? 
How about to-morrow ? ” 

“Willingly!” 

“ To-morrow we will dine here ; or no. 
We are too likely to meet people here. We 
had better go to Douone’s, take a private 
room, and talk in peace. As soon as we 
have finished dinner I shall go and see her, 
and invite her. I will tell you this evening, 
or early to-morrow morning, the place of our 
rendezvous. You will find that she is the 
most charming person, one of the most 
amiable women that I know. But I am 
prattling with you, and my friends are wait- 
iug.” 

“ Go, go ! ” interrupted Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch, winking his eye wickedly. 

The uncle and nephew shook hands and 
separated. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch returned to his hotel, 
and, having eaten a morsel, took a nap on the 
sofa. 

When he woke up it was dark. Sleep had 


THE GRUEL CITY \ 


201 


calmed liim after all the worry of the day. 
He would have remained in this peaceful con- 
dition if he had not taken the idea to make 
out his accounts. lie found that, with what 
lie had given Pigounoff, all that was left of 
his money amounted to seventeen hundred 
rubles and forty-three kopecks. 

This discovery filled his soul with emotion. 

“ I hope that young fool Coco will not tell 
Katerina Mikhailovna that I am rich. I for- 
got to warn him. She must not think me 
stingy; that would freeze her at once. But 
on the other hand, if she believes I am rich, 
she is likely to ask too much service of me. 
I am willing to sacrifice the amount I lent 
Arkadii, but not any more. Great Heaven ! 
how money disappears in St. Petersburg ! It 
is frightful ! ” 

About eleven o’clock Sophia Petrovna en- 
tered with the children. 

But the return of his wife, far from com- 
forting him, only irritated him. 

This was the reason : At first sight Niko- 
lai Stcpanovitch, happy to see her, had not 


202 


TEE CRUEL CITY. 


remarked tlie great package which she carried 
in her hand. But when the children had 
been put to bed and she began to undo the 
bundle, from which she took two dresses, 
two embroidered skirts, and lots of other arti- 
cles of toilet which she had bought of Ma- 
dame Poupon, Nikolai Stepanovitcli stepped 
back three paces, and in despair fell on the 
sofa, burying his face in his hands, 

“ What does this mean ? ” asked Sophia 
Petrovna. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch could not contain 
himself. The expenses had tormented his 
soul for a long time. He told his wife bluntly 
that she did not behave like a reasonable per- 
son ; that it was not the time to buy useless 
ornaments ; it was all right when there was a 
purpose in view, but since the affair with 
Mediolanski had failed, they were useless. 

Sophia Petrovna listened to all her hus- 
band said, with the patience of an angel, but 
the last phrase was too humiliating. She ad- 
vanced toward him, and raised her head 
proudly. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


203 


“ That is perfect ; that is charming, Niko- 
lai Stepanov itch ! ” As she pronounced his 
name he felt uneasy. He felt he had gone 
too faiy but it was too late. “ It is perfect,” 
continued Sophia Petrovna, whose voice rose 
to a treble. “ Your wife is nothing more or 
less than a means of accomplishing your ends ; 
you permit her to buy dresses to accomplish 
your calculations, for your enterprises. That 
is very noble, Nikolai Stepanovitch, that is 
very noble ! ” 

“ You are always the same ! You will not 
let me finish, when you are angry ! I did not 
mean to say that, and besides, if it were as 
you say, do I think of myself ? Are you not 
to share whatever may be gained \ ” 

“ Oh, I know everything ! I know every- 
thing ! You need not teach me. It is alto- 
gether useless. There is nothing to be said — 
it is really perfect. I see that you imitate 
your dear brother Pigounoff with success ! ” 

“ I don’t think so.” 

“ He don’t think so either, when he offends 
his wife.” 


204 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


“ But listen to me ” 

u I don’t want to listen ! I have heard 
enough.” 

“ I might say, for my part, that you imitate 
your cousin Alexandrine,” replied the hus- 
band, in an injured tone. 

“ Yes, I imitate her. I imitate her in not 
allowing my husband to offend me. She does 
not permit him to reproach her for a miser- 
able dress ! ” 

“That is perhaps because Piotre Pietro- 
vitcli owes everything to her ; even his place.” 

“ That’s right ! that’s right ! another in- 
sinuation that I am useless to you. Oh ! 
now I understand you. All is clear to me.” 

The scene which we -are describing took 
place in the third room. At the last sen- 
tence a servant entered, with a letter for 
Nikolai Stepanovitch. Having recognized 
the handwriting of Coco, and divining its 
contents, he assumed a serious look and 
left the room. This is what it read : 

“ Uncle, rejoice ! I have told Katerina 
Mikhailovna that you desired to be pre* 


The cruel ciTt. 305 

Rented to her; she will be enchanted to 
make your acquaintance. To-morrow we 
three will dine at Douone’s. We shall have 
a gay time — you will see how charming 
she is.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch raised his eyes, frojn 
time to time, to look at the door. At the 
moment when he had finished reading it, 
the door opened quickly and Sophia Petrovna 
entered. He had just time to hide the letter 
in his pocket. 

“ More and more,” cried Sophia Petrovna, 
standing before her husband, and crossing 
her arms on her breast. “ You have al- 
ready begun to have secrets from me, it 
appears ! ” 

What an idea ! This — this is a letter on 
business. It is from Cousin Mirzoeff,” mur- 
mured the husband, red and confused. 

“ What does he write to you ? Is it a 
secret ? ” 

“ No, but ” 

“ Why have you hid it? Show me that 
letter,” insisted Sophia Petrovna. 


£06 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


“ But my dear friend, it does not concern 
yon at all, at all.” 

“You just finished saying that all that 
concerned you concerned me as well. I 
wish to see that letter ! ” The voice of 
Sophia Petrovna trembled ; her cheeks were 
burning. 

“ But, my dear — I swear to you that ” 

murmured Nikolai Stepanovitch, convulsively 
grasping the letter in his pocket. 

Suddenly Sophia Petrovna began to shiver, 
then, covering her face with her two hands, 
she threw herself on the sofa and began 
sobbing. 

“ Calm yourself, in the name of Heaven ! 
What is the matter ? ” said Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch, in a voice conciliating and tender. 

“ Ha, ha, ha ! ” cried and sobbed Sophia 
Petrovna, at the same time. 

“ I beg of you. Here, in a hotel ” 

“ Ha, ha, ha ! ” 

“ Oh, my God ! she has an attack of 
hysteria ! ” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch lost his head com- 


TUB GliUBL CITY. 


207 


pletely. Pie made two turns around the 
room and then flung himself into the hall. 

“ Somebody ! Water ! ” he cried, pulling 
the bell. 

This yell seemed to solace him ; he wiped 
his forehead, drew the letter hastily from his 
pocket and tore it into a hundred pieces, 
which he hid in one pocket, then in another ; 
then, changing his mind, he ran down the 
hall, threw the papers in a corner, and re- 
turned to the side of his wife as if nothing 
had happened. 

She was still laughing hysterically. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


A PLUCKED EOWL. 

It was seven o’clock in tke evening. The 
weather had been fine throughout the day, 
but a sharp wind from the sea gave promise 
of an approaching storm. 

Isler, the proprietor of the Garden of Pleas- 
ure, looked up at the sky and shook his 
head sadly. He had advertised a Syrian 
night, accompanied by marvels from three 
parts of the world; a colossal cactus, bril- 
liant illumination, and a balloon ascension 
such as no one had ever seen before. 

On the terrace of his garden he listened 
with a melancholy air to the howling of the 
wind ; casting uneasy glances at his cactus of 
pasteboard, which the first rainfall would ruin. 
As a ray of sunlight fell in the garden, the 
face of the proprietor was also illumined. 

The light was intermittent as the clouds 


THE CRUEL CITY. 209 

swept by. It penetrated tlie houses and 
courts, and glimmered on the shrunken trees 
which ornamented the garden of the restau- 
rant Douone. At the end of the garden stood 
a wooden pavilion with large windows of 
vitrified glass. Each time a ray of sun- 
light penetrated the place it illumined gayly 
the interior of the pavilion, Coco Svitscheff, 
Katerina Mikhailovna, and Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch. 

The table was covered with plates, cups, 
bottles, and dirty napkins, and from the gen- 
eral disorder it is to be supposed that they 
had dined. 

Katerina Mikhailovna was reclining on a 
fauteuil, her feet, marvelously shod, stretched 
out on the cushions of the sofa. These cush- 
ions served as a back for Coco, whose feet re- 
posed on the seat of another fauteuil. Coco 
smoked furiously on a huge cigar. Katerina 
Mikhailovna lit cigarette after cigarette. 
Nikolai Stepanovitcli alone sat upright and 
did nothing. It was now the question of 
finishing the last bottle of champagne. 


210 


the g R tf el city. 


Coco insisted that they should empty it. 

“ Uncle, I shall be seriously angry with 
you ! ” cried Coco, brandishing his cigar, which 
gave out such acrid smoke that it brought tears 
to the eyes of Nikolai Stepanovitch, an incident 
which infinitely amused Katerina Mikhailovna. 

“ You have not drank a single glass during 
the entire dinner; it is frightful, positively 
frightful ! I have emptied two bottles. 
Katerina Mikhailovna is a lady, and she has 
also finished one.” 

“ That’s a story, little blackguard ! ” inter- 
rupted Katerina Mikhailovna,, pushing him 
with her foot, which he seized and pressed 
to his heart. “ You’re a liar! I only drank 
three glasses.” 

“ It’s 'all the same, you are a woman; one 
cannot exact anything from you. But my 
uncle is a man; he ought to drink. Yes, he 
ought to drink ! Uncle, I shall be very 
angry, do you hear ? Drink ! ” 

“But, Coco ” 

“ Drink, I tell you ! ” interrupted Coco, 
sucking impatiently on his cigar. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


211 


u But, Coco, it makes me ill, I assure you ! 
I cannot drink, really ! ” making an effort to 
smile amiably, but very unquiet in the depths 
of his heart. “ I am forbidden to drink, and 
champagne above all.” 

“ There’s an idea ! Why everybody 
knows, even children, that there is nothing 
better than champagne for the stomach. 
Those are stupid reasons ! Drink, I tell 
you ; seriously, it is a shame. I shall get 
angry ! ” 

“ What an insupportable way you have of 
attacking peopje,” said Katerina Mikhailovna, 
pushing him again with her shoe, a perform- 
ance which seemed to give him great pleas- 
ure. 

“ You see, sir — sir — excuse me, but I have 
forgotten the name of your family.” 

“ Fouffiguine,” whispered Nikolai Stepan- 
ovitch, inclining his head amiably. 

“ Mr. Fouffiguine does not wish champagne, 
so let him alone,” said Katerina Mikhailovna, 
who, during dinner, had kept pace with Coco 
in filling her glass. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


2i2 

“ I am very well satisfied that Mr. — Mr.— 
Excuse me, I have forgotten it again.” 

u Foufiiguine,” cried Nikolai loudly, bow- 
ing again. 

“ Yes, that Mr. Foufliguine has drunk noth- 
ing. He is probably not so strong as you, 
and that would have prevented him from do- 
ing me a service ! ” 

“ What ! what ! Katerina Mikhailovna,” 
cried Nikolai Stepanovitch, anxious to utter 
a long sentence, for during the dinner Coco 
had talked so much that he had no time to 
open his lips. “ I shall be delighted to do 
anything you desire. Order, command, I am 
completely at your service.” 

“ Ah ! ah ! He knows how to say nice 
things, ha, ha ! ” laughed Coco, winking his 
eyes wickedly. 

Katerina Mikhailovna pushed him with her 
foot; he seized it and pressed it tenderly to 
his breast, closing his eyes. 

“ Here is what I want, Mr. — Mr. Foufii- 
guine,” said she, looking amiably at Nikolai 
Stepanovitch. 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


213 


“ I want to hire a property in the Tcher- 
naia Retclika. You know, I know nothing 
about choosing a house ; you will be so good, 
so amiable, as to give me advice and to tell me 
which house is the most comfortable, the best 
built, and if the windows close tightly.” 

“ I understand, I understand. With the 
greatest pleasure.” 

“ You are a proprietor ! You ought to know 
all that.” 

“ And he does know, I assure you,” cried 
Coco, disappearing in a cloud of smoke. 

“ You will not refuse me that service, Mr. 
Foufliguine?” 

“ On the contrary, I shall be delighted, I 
repeat. When do you wish to go house- 
hunting ? ” 

“ Suppose that we go right away? We 
have dined, and there is still plenty of time.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch called the servant 
and sent him for a carriage. The demand of 
Katerina Mikhailovna had filled him with joy. 
It gave him a chance to do her a service 
without touching his pocket-book. 


214 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


It was important above all, tliat lie should 
take in consideration the cost of the dinner 
and the carriage. He had now a chance to 
be alone with her and explain the aim he had 
in making her acquaintance. 

“ Only one thing disquiets me,” he thought, 
“ My wife has also gone into the country with 
her cousin. I do not know what direction 
they have taken. If we should meet ! ” 

But this consideration only caused him to 
pause a moment. A smile illuminated the 
benign face of Nikolai Stepanovitch, though 
he was in the act of paying a formidable bill 
for the dinner. 

“ That’s perfect,” cried Coco, when the ser- 
vant announced that the carriage was ready, 
and Katerina had put on her hat. “ But all 
the same we must finish this bottle.” 

“ But, Coco ! ” 

“ Not a word. To the health of Katerina 
Mikhailovna. You cannot refuse,” concluded 
Coco, filling his uncle’s glass to the rim. 
Katerina drank with Coco, and then held her 
glass toward Nikolai Stepanovitch, 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


215 


“To many merry meetings!” said Nikolai, 
seizing liis glass with nervous energy. 

He emptied it at a gulp, and drew a sigli of 
relief. 

“ Bravo ! bravo ! ” cried Coco, and throw- 
ing liis cigar in the air he kicked it up to the 
ceiling. 

The company laughingly left the pavilion 
and found themselves in Douone’s little gar- 
den. 

“What do you say, my uncle? Ah! he 
expressly ordered a carriage with two places ! 
Pay attention,” addressing Katerina. “ Don’t 
believe him ! Don’t judge him from his face. 
He is a terrible man, terrible ! ” concluded 
Coco, rolling his eyes. 

Katerina Mikhailovna burst out laughing. 
Whether from the gayety of the nephew, or 
the worried face of the uncle, it is impossible 
to say. 

“ You are going to the Tchernaia Retchka,” 
cried Coco, without paying any attention. 
“ What shall I do with myself ? Bah ! I 
will go to Isler’s. I suppose he has some- 


216 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


thing amusing to-day. There ! A mist. 
Well, a rain would be better. That would 
be your salvation, Katerina; the rain might 
suppress the volcano by your side.” Then he 
stuck his head in the door and added : 

“ Pay attention. I shall tell everything to 
Mediolanski ; you know how I love him ! 
W e are two old friends.” 

“ Eli route ! ” cried Katerina. 

“ Bon voyage / ” called out Coco, as the 
carriage rolled away. 

“ Have you been a long time in St. Peters- 
burg, Mr. — Mr. Foufliguine ? ” asked Katerina 
in a soft voice, in which she had not spoken 
until that moment. 

She extended her pretty feet and darted a 
tender and caressing look at her neighbor. 

“ No, madame, I have only been here four 
or five days.” 

“ Only ! ” 

The exclamation, and the smile which ac- 
companied it, might have turned any one’s 
head. 

“ Yes — only six days,” said Nikolai, whose 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


217 


face was suddenly covered with red spots. 
“I came here on an important affair, hum, 
hum!” 

“ What affair ? ” 

“Very important, Katerina Mikhailovna,” 
said Nikolai with difficulty, for the emotion 
of the moment was strangling him. “It rests 
in the hands, hum, hum ! of Mediolanski, of 
whom Coco spoke.” 

“ Mediolanski ! ” cried Katerina, so joyfully 
that one might think that all depended upon 
her and not on Mediolanski, and that she 
was glad to render a service to Nikolai 
Stepanovitch. 

His heart began to beat with force. He 
was about to enter into details regarding his 
position, when suddenly she put her head out 
of the window, and ordered the coachman to 
go to the Malaia Millionaia. 

“ I beg your pardon, Mr. Foufliguine,” she 
said, “ but I must stop a moment at the Mag- 
azin Anglais. It is not yet closed. Have 
the kindness to ask him to stop at the second 
entrance,” 


218 


TEE GRUEL CITY. 


u Stop ! ” yelled Nikolai Stepanovitch, ready 
at tkat moment to put himself in the horses’ 
harness to give pleasure to Katerina. 

Leaping lightly on to the pavement, he of- 
fered his arm to his com};)anion. Katerina 
Mikhailovna asked to see materials of the 
latest fashion. At the end .of a minute the 
table was covered with the most elegant 
stuffs. 

“ How pretty this is. It is charming, is it 
not, Mr. Foufliguine ? This embroidery is 
ravishing ! ” 

“ What the devil does this mean ? ” thought 
Nikolai Stepanovitch. “ Shall I offer her 
that dress ? The affair is moving well. Per- 
haps that will dispose her altogether in my 
favor.” 

He therefore begged permission to present 
her with this robe which pleased her so much, 
and not to consider it as a present, but simply 
the souvenir of a pleasant day. To his 
great joy she accepted it without the slightest 
hesitation. 

Plunged in agreeable reflections, he gave 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


219 


the eighty rubles without the slightest re- 
gret, and the dress was immediately wrapped 
up and carried to the coupe. Several mo- 
ments later they left for the Tchernaia 
Retchka. 

“Hum ! hum ! — these affairs — oh ! it is 
terrible, Katerina Mikhailovna,” began Niko- 
lai Stepanovitch as the carriage rolled over 
the Troitski bridge. “You cannot imagine 
what worry and difficulties; above all when 
one has to deal with Mediolanski. One might 
say they are insurmountable.” 

“ Ho you know what I think ? ” said Kate- 
rina smiling. “ You are all the time speaking 
of Mediolanski ; what would happen if he 
saw us together in this carriage ? Ha, ha, 
ha ! ” 

“ Well, is it a crime ? ” asked Foufliguine in 
a frightened voice. 

“ Oh, it’s well enough to reason this way. 
You are not old, and Mediolanski is a patri- 
arch ; he is more than sixty, and he is jealous. 
Jealous to madness ! ” 

“ I can understand that ! ” replied Nikolai 


220 


THE CRUEL CITY '. 


Stepanovitcli, with a curming smile. “It is 
in the order of things. I too — I too would 
be jealous, if — if ” 

“ If what?” 

“ If — if I was loved by you.” 

“ But you cannot love me ? ” 

“Why not?” said Nikolai, with a silly 
smile, who began to find out that he was not 
the volcano, but Katerina Mikhailovna. He 
asked himself what he should do if she 
exacted that he should love her in return for 
the service she was to render him. 

“ Why not, Katerina Mikhailovna ? ” he 
continued. “ On the contrary, it would be 
very natural. Your good heart — your ap- 
pearance, all inspires one with — but I will 
be frank with you. To love a woman seri- 
ously, passionately, one must feel tranquil. 
Yes, that is indispensable. Nothing must 
trouble the passion, you understand. One 
must have no care, like the present, hum ! 
When I must speak to Mediolanski, hum 1 
hum ! ” 

“ Oh, look ! what a terrible mist. It will 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


221 


rain in a moment. Coachman ! hurry ! get 
along ! ” she added, putting her head out of 
the window. 

The coachman was intelligent enough to 
know that when a gentleman took a ride 
with a lady, he was apt to give a generous 
fee, so he put his horses to the gallop, and 
before Nikolai Stepanovitch had time to 
arrange his ideas, they had crossed the Strog- 
onoff bridge. 

And besides, there was no chance to renew 
the conversation, for Katerina, absorbed with 
the idea of tlia country, looked all the time 
out of the window. 

She asked the coachman to stop near the 
Garden of Pleasure. 

“ Thank God, I don’t believe it’s raining ! ” 
she said, stepping out upon the wooden 
pavement that bordered the left bank of the 
Tchernaia Retchka. 

“I believe that it will rain very soon,” 
said her cavalier, when he left the carriage 
and found himself in the open air ; he was 
filled with a vague inquietude at the idea 


222 


T1IE CRUEL CITY. 


that he might meet his wife and her 
cousin. 

But everything passed happily. He saw 
no familiar faces. They visited many prop- 
erties, but all were found uncomfortable in 
spite of the protestations of Nikolai Stepan- 
ovitch, who declared that the ceilings might 
resist the most terrible storms. 

One house, however, conquered Katerina 
Mikhailovna, though he urged her that the 
. walls were not solid and the ceilings good for 
nothing. She would not hear him and called 
for the care-taker. The price for the property 
was three hundred rubles, not a kopeck less. 

“ Well, I will take it,” said Katerina Mik- 
hailovna in a decided voice. 

“ It is the custom, Madame,” said the care- 
taker, an old soldier in retirement, “ to pay 
half in advance. We give you a receipt, and 
the place belongs to you. We cannot do 
otherwise. It is a favorable time, Madame, 
when every one is going into the country. It 
will not remain long unlet.” 

“ Oh, great heavens ! What is to be 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


223 


done ? ” said Katerina Mikhailovna, with a 
troubled air. “ Mr. Foufliguine, have you 
not a hundred and fifty rubles about you? 
You will render me a great service. To- 
morrow morning I will send it back to you ; 
but no ! ” added she, with the look of an 
enchantress ; “ you can come yourself to- 
morrow morn in of.” 

At first the forehead of Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch was covered with a cold perspiration. 
He was ready to render services, to make 
sacrifices, but not to that extent. Her last 
words reassured him to a certain point. He 
understood that, having invited him to come 
for his money, he ran no danger. He took a 
hundred and fifty rubles out of his pocket- 
book and handed it to her gallantly. 

The night had meanwhile closed in. They 
had to wait in the house until the receipt 
was signed. Hardly had they reached the 
sidewalk again before great drops of rain 
began to fall. They hastened to get into 
their carriage. 

“ What shall we do, now ? ” she said. 


224 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


u And what a bother ! If we go to Isler’s, 
the fete has naturally been put off, but we 
can find a refuge there and wait until the 
rain is over.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch was quite willing to 
do as his charming companion wished. 

Three minutes had hardly passed before 
the carriage stopped at the entrance of the 
Garden of Pleasure. 

“ I have still another prayer to address to 
you, Mr. Foufiiguine. You will probably 
remain here longer than I, or you will not 
have time to conduct me back. In any case 
leave me the carriage, if you please. Ask the 
name of the coachman, and tell me, has he 
been paid?” 

“ No, Madame — but I shall pay him in a 
minute,” said Foufiiguine, ready to do any- 
thing to please her. 

While repeating softly with her pretty 
lips the name of the coachman, Katerina 
Mikhailovna passed her arm through that of 
her cavalier, and they entered the grand 
salon. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


225 


A crowd was pushing here and there to 
secure places. 

Across the tumult the tinkling of a guitar 
was heard and the shrill cries of a tzigane 
song. 

“ There is nothing to be seen here ; let us 
go further,” said Katerina Mikhailovna. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch passed his linger into 
the boutonniere of his coat to better sustain 
his lady’s arm, and hastened to lead her into 
the second room, where the crowd was less 
numerous and more choice. 

Suddenly Katerina drew her arm away. 
Nikolai Stepanovitch looked at her, stupefied. 

“ In the name of Heaven go away ! Go 
away as quick as you can ! Quick ! quick ! 
Leave the place. I am lost ! Mediolansld is 
here. Here he is. Go away ! away ! ” 

Katerina said all this with a wonderful 
rapidity, yet, when she had finished, Foufli- 
guine found himself ten paces away from her. 
He lounged toward the first salon, and, hav- 
ing entered it, fled as fast as his legs would 
carry him toward the steps. 


226 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


Tlie rain fell in torrents. 

The darkness was so profound that he could 
not distinguish the carriages. 

“ How easily one can be caught,” said Nik- 
olai Stepanovitch, smiling at his sudden fear. 
“Yes, these relations are always surrounded 
by danger, but I think everything is working 
like a charm. I have spent an enormous 
amount of money to-day, but at least we have 
pushed the affair a good way ahead.” 

“ Coachman ! ” he cried, in that sonorous 
voice which characterizes happy men. 

He received no response. 

Nothing was heard but the noise of the 
rain falling on the roofs of the neighboring 
houses and in the court of the Garden of 
Pleasure. 

“ Coachman ! ” he cried still louder. 

“ There are no coachmen here,” responded 
a voice from the shadows. “ The fiacres are 
to be found on the side of the Novaia Derev- 
inia. You have only to cross the square and 
you will find it before you.” 

“ It is very disagreeable — I thank you all 


TIIE CRUEL CITY. 


227 


the same. There is no remedy ; I must make 
up my mind to plunge through the mud.” 

Pronouncing all this in a tone of gayety, 
Nikolai Stepanovitch, cursing himself for his 
adventure, pulled his hat over his eyes and 
disappeared in the darkness. 

The mud was up to his ankles, but he 
strode bravely on in the direction of a mass 
of little lights. Some time afterward he 
found himself near the country houses that 
could vaguely be discovered through the ob- 
scurity. 

“ Is this the Novaia Derevinia ? ” he asked 
a woman who was passing by there. 

“Yes.” 

“ Where are the carriages ? ” 

“ Over beyond on the side of this cafe.” 

Encouraged by this intelligence and feeling 
the ground grow firm beneath his feet, Nik- 
olai Stepanovitch quickened his pace.- The 
rain and the wind pushing against his back 
caused him to forge ahead with constantly in- 
creasing speed. 

“ Oh, dear God ! ” wailed a woman’s voice 


228 


THE CRUEL CITY\ 


not ten paces from him. u Oh, dear God ! ” 
she repeated with despair. 

Nikolai started like a rabbit that hears the 
cry of the hunters on his track. 

“ Oh, dear God ! ” cried the same voice 
again. 

“ Oh ! ” echoed the voice of a child. 

“ Mamma, my foot is stuck in the mud ! ” 
squeaked another child. 

The obscurity did not permit one to dis- 
tinguish the features of Nikolai Stepanovitcli, 
but to judge from the rapidity with which he 
plunged forward toward the lady and the 
children, there is no doubt that his soul and 
his face — the mirror of the soul — were greatly 
moved. 

“ Sonetchka ! Is it you — you ? ” he cried. 

“Ah, Nikolai ! Ah ! ah ” 

And Sophia Petrovna ^clasped him in her 
arms, her wet robe gluing itself to his clothes. 

“ But why are you here ? what does it 
mean ? ” 

“ Oh, great God ! ” 

“ Papa, I am all soaked,” cried Lecha. 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


229 


“ Mamma, my foot is stuck again in tlie 
mud,” wept Pacha. “ Hi, lii, hi ! ” 

“Why are you here?” repeated Nikolai 
Stepanovitch, caressing the heads of his chil- 
dren. 

“ It is the fault of your brother ! yes, it is 
terrible ! ” 

“Arkadii?” asked Nikolai, with a shiver. 

“Yes, yes. I met him before the storm 
and begged him to get me a carriage. I gave 
him the money, and behold ! he disappeared 
— and then — and then ” 

“ He may come back at any moment,” said 
the husband, looking on all sides. 

“ But we have been waiting more than an 
hour. I am soaked ; the children also.” 

“ How could all that happen ? you were 
with your cousin.” 

“Ah, she is a horrible woman ! I don’t 
wish to know her,” cried Sophia, in a heat. 
“ She made a shameful scene. Sioussioukoff 
was with us. She became jealous because 
she saw him press my foot twice under the 
table” 


230 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


“He allowed himself to press your foot ? 
Ah ? the canaille ! ” began Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch. Blit the idea that a quarrel of his 
wife with Alexandra Semenovna might em- 
broil him with Mirzoeff subdued the spirit 
of the unhappy husband and dispersed all 
other considerations. 

* “ Unhappy woman, what have you done ? ” 
he said in a trembling voice. “You have in- 
jured me with Piotre Pietro vitch. Ah ! good 
God ! ” 

He could not continue ; the storm and 
wind redoubled their force. Lech a and 
Pacha began to howl. Sophia uttered a 
scream and approached the children. 

“We cannot remain here in the storm. 
The carriages are back of the cafe,” said 
Nikolai, whose heart was torn. 

They walked on for several paces. Sud- 
denly a loud whistle sounded in the neigh- 
borhood. Lecha and Pacha rushed to their 
father. 

“Brigands, hi, hi, hi! brigands!” they 
howled, hiding their heads. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


231 


Nikolai Stepanovitch was himself responsi- 
ble for tlie terror of bis children. Often, 
in the country, he had spent the evening in 
recounting to them stories of the famous 
brigands, and imitated their whistles so 
well that Sophia Petrovna was often 
frightened. 

He commenced to console and calm them, 
but a new whistle, more strident than before, 
spoilt everything. 

The terror of the children knew no bounds 
when they heard the voice of some men ap- 
proaching in their direction. 

“Hurry, hurry, gentlemen; the boat has 
arrived,” said a voice. 

“Yes; that is the second whistle. Let us 
hurry.” 

“ Excuse me, gentlemen,” cried Nikolai 
Stepanovitch, seizing his children by the 
hand and following the strangers instinc- 
tively. 

“ What is that boat ? Where is it ? Where 
is it going ? ” 

“Opposite the Mineral Waters; there be- 


532 


TEE G1WEL CITY. 


hind the corner. It stops opposite the Spring 
Garden,” responded a voice in haste. 

The third whistle sounded ; the strangers 
began to run. Nikolai followed them, but as 
the children could not go as rapidly, they 
had to relinquish their pace. They soon 
arrived at the establishment of Mineral 
Waters and found themselves on the wooden 
walk that led to the Neva. They were 
just in time, however, to see the boat, 
with its colored lanterns, glide out of 
sight. 

“ There will be another boat in a quarter 
of an hour,” said a soldier, who had noticed 
the despair depicted on the face of Stepano- 
vitch. 

The entire family now found themselves 
at the mercy of the storm. This was too 
much for poor Nikolai, who threw himself on 
a bench, crushed with despair. His wife 
tried several times to console and comfort 
him. Nikolai Stepanovitch only repeated, 
“ I am upset. Leave me alone, I beg of you. 
I am completely upset.” 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


233 


And he returned again to liis bitter 
thoughts. 

Ten minutes passed in this way. He 
might have remained still longer in this 
abasement of mind if the voice of his wife 
had not startled him. 

“ Ah, Piotre Pietrovitch ! ” she cried. 

Nikolai raised his head. His cousin Mir- 
zoeff was before him, bowing to his wife. 

“ Ah, Piotre Pietrovitch ! by what chance ? 
You see me — you see me very much upset,” 
rising. 

For response Piotre took him by the hand 
and drew him into a far corner of the pier. 

The lantern illumined the face of Cousin 
Mirzoeff, which displayed, as always, dignity 
and tranquillity. 

The presentment of a new misfortune pen- 
etrated the soul of Nikolai Stepanovitch. 

“What? What is the matter?” he de- 
manded, with inquietude. 

“ I come from the Mineral Waters,” replied 
Mirzoeff calmly. “ A terrible scene has tran- 
spired. Your nephew had a row with Medi- 


234 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


olanski. Katerina Mikhailovna was there 
also. Your nephew made love to her before 
Mediolanski. He grew irritated. A terrible 
brawl followed. In short, Mediolanski does 
not wish to know that addlepate any longer, 
and you have also no need of his acquaint- 
ance.” 

In the head of Nikolai Stepanovitch not 
only were the balls rolling, about but his 
brain seemed to have changed into a huge 
ball, which rolled with a dizzy velocity. 
Leaning against the wall, his eyes glared 
about him with a terrible expression. 

“ A hundred and fifty rubles ! Eighty 
rubles ! Dinner ! Carriage ! All is lost ! ” 

That was all he could utter, and in a voice 
so feeble that Mirzoeff could not understand 
what he said. * 

His condition really inspired pity. Mir- 
zoeff arranged his glasses and took his cousin 
by the buttonhole of his coat. 

“ Calm yourself, my friend, I beg of you ! 
You mustn’t lose your head. It is nothing ! 
Listen to me. Hazard has thrown in my 


THE CHUEL CITY. 


235 


way a chance to arrange this misfortune. 
We will conquer yet, if you will be calm. 
But here is the boat. I will tell you of my 
plan as soon as we are on board.” 

Cousin Mirzoeff returned to Sophia Pe- 
trovna and offered her his arm. In his 
trouble Nikolai had forgotten all about his 
children, so he was compelled to retrace his 
steps and carry them on board in his arms. 

The means suggested by Piotre Pietrovitch 
were practical and ingenious, to a certain 
point. This is what he proposed to gain 
their mutual ends : 

Mediolanski owned a country house in 
Petersburskaia Storona — an edifice half de- 
molished. For ten years he had advertised 
it for sale without ever finding a purchaser ; 
and yet the sale of that property, Mirzoeff 
knew from certain sources, was only the 
caprice of an old man. 

The person who bought that country 
house, naturally disposed the founder of the 
Society for the Propagation and Ameliora- 
tion of Horned Beasts in his favor. That 


236 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


was indisputable ! It was necessary to buy 
that property at any cost. Mirzoeff would 
take upon himself to let Mediolanski know 
the name of the purchaser; he would men- 
tion Foufliguine’s name, or perhaps it would 
be better to cite his own. Yes, that would 
be best, for then the place of manager would 
surely be obtained. As for the money neces- 
sary for the purchase, it was so small that it 
was hardly worth speaking about ; only six- 
teen hundred rubles ! It was absolutely 
necessary that the place should be bought, 
and happily Nikolai Stepanovitch had the 
sum in his possession. 

“ I am lost, lost, Piotre Pietrovitch ! I 
have no longer that amount,” said Foufli- 
guine, in a voice tremulous with despair. 

“ What ? You think that I would allow 
you to pay it all alone ? ” replied Piotre 
Pietrovitch, seizing his cousin’s hand. “That 
would be unjust ! In this affair, you under- 
stand, very respected Nikolai Stepanovitch, 
my interests are as much engaged as yours. 
I shall feel myself obliged to pay the half. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


237 


You give eight hundred rubles, and I the 
same. It is not dear, my friend. Trust in 
my experience ! Believe me, nothing is 
gained in the world without sacrifice. No 
one will render you a service for nothing. 
What are our sacrifices compared with the 
benefits we shall gain ? Nothing at all ! 
Calm yourself, I beg of you ! Have cour- 
age ! ” 

The respiration of Nikolai Stepanovitch 
became more regular ; his thoughts more 
calm. The big ball which rolled in his head 
resumed its fixed position. The last words 
of Piotre Pietrovitch gave to his soul the 
peace it had lost; he pressed his cousin’s 
hand with energy and felt the pressure 
returned ! 

At that moment the stoker opened the 
door of the furnace and the faces of the two 
cousins were illuminated with splendor; but 
the door was shut quickly again and every- 
thing was plunged in the stormy darkness of 
the night. 


CHAPTER IX. 


FULL OF DRAMATIC EPISODES. 

“ My sister, I swear to you, you accuse me 
wrongly ! Nikolai, you are unjust to me ! 
Listen to me, in the name of Heaven ! I 
repeat to you, my sister, I told you clearly 
not to budge from that place. There were 
no carriages anywhere. The rain had driven 
them away ; I had to run in search of one at 
Ostrov, which is two versts away. I was 
swamped in the mud up to my knees. I fell 
at every step, but I ran, I ran always. I 
found a carriage at last ; I returned in haste ; 
you were no longer there. Was it my fault ? 
Put yourself in my ]5lace. You see me in 
despair ! ” 

In relating this, Arkadii had all the ap- 
pearance of sincerity. His face expressed an 
awful despair. One might imagine that in 
coming to his brother’s, his soul was filled 


THE CRUEL CITY. 239 

with the most joyous thoughts, and that sud- 
denly they had disappeared. 

All was lost. 

“ In any case, Arkadii, you ought to have 
warned me. You knew that I remained 
there alone with the children,” said Sophia 
Petrovna, visibly irritated. 

Pigounoif struck his forehead and let his 
head fall on his breast. 

“ No, Arkadii; to say the best, you acted 
badly. I did not expect that of you,” said 
Nikolai Stepanovitch, in his turn. 

But before continuing this conversation it 
is necessary to explain in a few words where 
it took place. It was no longer a question 
of No. 1 of the Hotel de Paris. For eight 
days Nikolai Stepanovitch had occupied the 
house in the country which he had bought, 
with Piotre Pietrovitch, of Mediolanski. 
There was no difficulty in furnishing it, as 
Nikolai was to have a place in a short time, 
his cousin guaranteed. On the other hand, 
Coco Svistcheff persuaded a furniture mer- 
chant to furnish the necessary chairs and 


240 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


beds and tables, etc., on credit, for tbe candi- 
date for tbe lucrative position. 

In one word, tbe Foufliguines installed 
themselves very comfortably. 

They lived in their country house and 
stinted themselves of nothing ; they hired a 
Swedish girl who, for six rubles a month, 
cooked the dinner, laced madame, cared for the 
children, and blacked the boots of monsieur. 

During the current week, Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch had been three times to see his cousin 
without ever being able to find him at home. 
But that did not disquiet him a bit. He was 
gay as a lark. 

He knew that everything was going well, 
otherwise his cousin Mirzoeff would have 
come to let him know or would have written 
a word. 

Sophia Petrovna was very much in the 
same humor as her husband. She never left 
his side, never contradicted him, looked in 
his eyes, called him by the most tender 
names. In short, she had all the sweetness 
and tenderness of the honeymoon. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


241 


Nikolai could not explain this sudden 
change. As he did not wish to trouble the 
peace that reigned in his family, he no longer 
insisted that Sophia should make up with 
her cousin. In fact, he thought no more 
about it, for Piotre Pietrovitch, noble even 
to heroism, had declared that wives were one 
thing and husbands another, that their quar- 
rels could have nothing to do with the rela- 
tions of the husbands. 

Since he had abandoned his sister-in-law 
in the rain, Arkadii had given no further 
signs of life. The conduct of his brother 
was a great chagrin to Foufliguine. The 
Saturday had long passed when he was to 
receive his money, and Nikolai tried in vain 
to conquer the sentiment of wounded self- 
love which he was beginning to feel toward 
his relative. 

He had decided to go in search of his 
brother, when suddenly the latter presented 
himself about ten o’clock one morning. We 
have already seen with what warmth he tried 
to justify himself before Sophia Petrovna 


242 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


for having left her in the rain, but we have 
said nothing of the new sorrow which he 
communicated to his brother. He had been 
cruelly deceived by his debtor. Pigounolf was 
astonished ; it shook his credulity in human 
nature. This innocent credulity w r as the 
cause of half his misfortunes. 

He was convinced, he could swear, that the 
money would be returned in two weeks, but 
how could he exist during those two w^eeks ? 

He had lost his head. His wife ill, his 
children dying of hunger, the cook demand- 
ing money, the druggist refusing another 
kopeck of credit, the butcher the same. Ar- 
kadii begged his brother and his sister to 
put themselves in his place. He demanded 
nothing, no, he only begged them to put 
themselves in his place. 

“ It is terrible ! I understand all that — it 
is truly terrible ! ” replied Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch, feeling his bald spot nervously with 
his hand, while Sophia Petrovna, embar- 
rassed, lowered her eyes. 

“ I understand your position, Arkadii, but 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


243 


with the best intentions in the world — I de- 
cidedly — decidedly can do nothing for you. 
The purchase of this place has drained me. 
I have not a kopeck. To tell the truth, I 
counted — I counted on the money which I 
gave you. I am seriously in need.” 

Pigounoff listened with emotion to every 
sentence his brother uttered, and his face 
lengthened more and more; such a despair 
was written on his face that Sophia Petrovna, 
in spite of her aversion for her brother-in-law, 
was profoundly moved. 

The indifference of Nikolai, who refused to 
go to his brother’s aid under the pretext that 
he had not a kopeck, displeased her to the 
highest degree. She urged him not to 
abandon Pigounoff in the hour of peril. 
But she spoke in vain ; Nikolai did not 
seem to understand, and refused in a resolute 
voice. 

“ I have no longer a kopeck, Arkadii — I 
have nothing for you, decidedly nothing ! ” 

“ I ask for nothing — brother, you do not 
understand me,” interrupted Pigounoff, in a 


244 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


voice broken and sepulchral, which contrasted 
with his features, wet with abundant tears. 
“ I ask for nothing ! I cannot ask for any- 
thing. A man who has so many times abused 
your confidence ! No, I can no longer hope 
to inspire confidence in any one. I feel that 
all is finished. I know it ! It is not for that 
that I have come to you — brother Nikolai. 
I beg you, and you, my sister,” added Pigou- 
noff animatedly, u I conjure you in the name 
of all that you hold sacred in the world 
to come to my home for a single moment. I 
am a lost man ! If not to-day, to-morrow 
they will put me in prison. But I beg of 
you, I conjure you to come and see the unfor- 
tunate woman who is dying for want of 
medicines. Come and see the three children 
who have not eaten for three days ! My 
friends, you are young, both of you ; you 
have children. The picture may be useful to 
you. You will see an example ! A terrible 
example ! Do not disquiet yourselves about 
me ; abandon me, despise me ; but these chil- 
dren, these unfortunate children, this un- 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


245 


happy woman, are worthy of pity; do not 
abandon them ! ” 

“ It is terrible ! terrible ! ” repeated Nikolai 
Stepanovitch several times, twisting in his 
chair while Sophia Petrovna stared fixedly at 
her husband. “ It is terrible ! ” added Niko- 
lai. “ It is terrible, because I can do nothing 
for you, Arkadii ! I find myself in a tight 
corner. I have next to nothing, I swear to 
you, on my honor ! ” 

Pigounoff tore his hair. Sophia Petrovna 
rose. 

“ If I count my money, I am sure that I 
have only seventy rubles left. Judge for 
yourself ; I have a wife and children ; the ex- 
penses every day. I must live on that sum 
for fifteen days, perhaps three weeks. I 
swear to you that I am in a very precarious 
position ! ” 

At these last sentences, uttered with such a 
profound sincerity, Sophia Petrovna paled 
considerably. Seeking to hide her emotion, 
she left the room hastily. 

But Nikolai Stepanovitch, too much ab- 


246 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


sorbed in the troubles of his brother, re- 
marked nothing ; he did not even remark the 
emotion of his wife. Approaching Pigounoff, 
he took him by the hand. 

“ Listen, Arkadii,” he . said, in a voice 
broken with emotion, “you are to a certain 
extent the cause of your misfortunes.” 

“ Everybody accuses me ! All, all are 
against me,” interrupted Pigounoff, with 
despair. 

“ I do not accuse you at all, my friend,” 
said Nikolai Stepanovitch, with tenderness. 
“ I only say that your conduct has been care- 
less. Why, knowing your position, why 
have you not sought for a place, that would 
assure you of the means of existence to a 
certain point ? You live in a city where one 
could easily be found. You remember, I 
spoke to you about it some time ago. Listen, 
my friend ; in a few days I shall obtain a posi- 
tion — a very good position. You know that 
I came, expressly for that, to St. Petersburg. 
Well, I shall at once occupy myself about 
you.” 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


247 


“ No ! wliat for ? ” cried Pigounoff, striding 
up and down the room. “ What place ? I 
have no longer need of anything ! If you 
cannot save me now I am lost ! I know what 
remains for me to do. Do you think that I 
have not sought for a place ? ” he added, with 
energy, crossing his arms. “ But the world, 
the people, all are a gainst — a man with a 
tender soul. I am not a Mirzoeff ! Fortune 
smiles only on such men. That canaille , 
Mirzoeff, not satisfied with having ob- 
tained one place, is now trying to get a 
second.” 

At this intelligence, Nikolai Stepan ovitch 
staggered. All his blood mounted to his 
face. 

“ When ? How ? Oh, great God ! — it is 
not possible ! Who told you ? ” he cried, 
rolling his great eyes and gesticulating forci- 
bly. “ Who told you ? ” 

“ Sioussioukoff told me. I met him last 
night.” 

For only response Nikolai Stepanovitch 
flung himself upon his brother, and covered 


248 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


his cheeks and whisker^ with a dozen ardent 
kisses. 

“ Brother, we are saved ! W e are 
saved ! ” he cried, suffocated with joy. “ All 
saved ! You, myself, your wife, mine ! Oh, 
great Heaven, Sonetchka ! Sophia ! ” he 
yelled, abandoning Pigounoff, stupefied, and 
throwing himself into the next room. “ So- 
phia ! My dear — where are you ? What 
joy ! What joy ! ” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch entered the sleeping- 
room like a bomb, but on the threshold he 
paused before an unexpected scene. 

Extended on the bed Sophia Petrovna 
wept, hiding her face in her hands. 

“ Sonetchka, what ails you ? What does 
this mean ? Listen ! Mirzoeff has obtained 
his place. We are saved ! I am going right 
away to him. But what is the matter with 
you? In the name of Heaven I understand 
nothing,” said the husband, in whom the 
feeling of joy fought against the feeling of 
stupefaction. 

Not obtaining any response, he bowed 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


249 


down toward his wife. Sophia Petrovna 
seemed to be only waiting for that, and 
throwing her arms around her husband’s 
neck, began to weep more forcibly than be- 
fore. 

“Nikolai,” she murmured, “I have been 
very guilty toward you.” 

“ Guilty ! How ? In what ? Bah ! My 
dear, it is nothing, nothing at all,” said Niko- 
lai Stepanovitch, responding with kisses to his 
wife’s caresses. 

“ But, dearest, I — I hid from you,” said 
Sophia Petrovna, encouraged by the caresses 
of her husband, whose gayety reassured her. 
“ I wanted to confess to you many times be- 
fore, but I could never make up my mind.” 

“ But what is it ? ” asked her husband, 
smiling. 

“ Dearest, I owe three hundred rubles to 
Madame Poupon, and to-day it falls due. She 
will absolutely come to-day ! ” 

Sophia Petrovna paused. The impatient 
movement of her husband, who started back, 
and above all, his looks, discouraged her. She 


250 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


had not the strength to continue ; she threw 
her head back ; her body shook convulsively ; 
she uttered a plaintive sigh. 

The blow which Nikolai Stepanovitch re- 
ceived was terrible as it was unexpected. He 
could say nothing for the moment, because 
his soul was so filled with joy. Above all, 
he wished to prevent a hysterical attack, 
which might keep him from going to see 
Piotre Pietro vitch. 

u What is done is done. Nothing can be 
settled with sighs and tears,” he said, ap- 
proaching his wife again. “ In eight or fif- 
teen days I shall have a place. We can ex- 
plain that to Madame Poupon. I hope that 
she will wait ; if not, we can pay her the in- 
terest. I repeat to you, Sonetchka, that tears 
lead to nothing. Calm yourself, I beg of you. 
Calm yourself ! ” 

Having thus prevented an hysterical attack 
at its beginning, Nikolai Stepanovitch dressed 
himself in haste. Then he thought of his 
brother. He found Pigounoff in the same 
place. He was no longer walking up and 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


25^ 


down tlie length of the apartment. His emo 
tion seemed to have given place to calm. He 
stood beside a table, his eyes fixed on a pair 
of candlesticks and a bronze clock, which Coco 
had offered to his relatives the day of the 
house-warming. 

On the entrance of his brother Pigounoff 
cast a reproachful look at him, then his eyes 
wandered back to the candlesticks. 

Nikolai Stepanovitcli interpreted his 
brother’s look, and tried to console him. He 
explained in a few words the reason for his 
joy and the necessity of going to his cousin’s 
at once. 

“ In fifteen days I shall obtain my place 1 — 
do you understand, Arkadii ? Obtain my 
place ! And the first thing I shall do, I swear 
to you, will be to occupy myself about you.” 

This news was received very stolidly by 
Pigounoff ; all his attention was absorbed by 
the candlesticks and the clock. Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch understood nothing more. 

He pressed his brother’s hand and hastened 
to leave the house. Without stopping to 


252 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


bargain, lie took a carriage, and ordered tlie 
driver to take him to the great Podiatcheskaia. 

Half an hour later the door covered with 
green cloth and ornamented with brass nails, 
bearing the tablet with the inscription, “P. 
P. Mirzoeff,” opened before him. 
u The master is at home ? ” 

“ Yes; will you enter?” answered the ser- 
vant. 

The joy which overflowed the soul of 
Foufliguine was displayed by an enthusiasm 
that passed all limits. Without taking count 
of what he was doing, he threw to the servant 
all the change which the coachman had given 
him, and flung himself into the salon. 

“ Piotre Pietrovitch, I congratulate you ! I 
congratulate you ! ” he cried, as soon as he 
perceived his cousin. “ I am enchanted ! 
Dear friend, permit me to take you in my 
arms and embrace you,” he said, suiting his 
words with the action. This called for a con- 
‘ siderable effort on his part, because he was 
much smaller than Mirzoelf, and the latter did 
not lower his shoulders an inch. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


253 


“ I thank you ! I am very much obliged,” 
answered Mirzoeff, displaying a dignity worthy 
of his noble character and elevated soul. ITis 
repose would have been more perfect if he 
had not felt a little oppressed by the naive 
enthusiasm of his provincial cousin. But the 
good Foufliguine remarked nothing. He con- 
tinued to embrace his cousin and to press his 
hand, and did not pause until Mlrzoeff seized 
his wig, which was in danger of falling off, 
and settled it on his head. 

“ Excuse me, Piotre Pietrovitcli. Excuse 
me, but I am so happy; you understand, do 
you not ? My heart is overflowing ! It was 
so unexpected ! Forgive me ! ” 

Piotre Pietrovitcli arranged his wig and his 
glasses in silence. A single minute sufficed 
for him to resume his dignity and monumental 
grandeur. 

“ Who communicated this news to you ? ” 
“Who? My brother Arkadii. Just imag- 
ine ! Pie came this morning and announced 
to me the good news ! I was stupefied ! 
You can judge of my joy. By the way, 


254 


THE OlWEL CITY. 


Pietro Pietro vitch, it is absolutely necessary 
that we should do something for my brother. 
He is not a bad lot, when you know him. 
ITis position is terrible ! We must bring him 
into our society.” 

A cold smile wrinkled the lips of Mir- 
zoeff. 

“ We must first think of you, my respect- 
able friend,” he said. 

“ Naturally,” said Nikolai Stepanovitch, 
with vivacity. “ But I spoke of my brother 
because I am, so to speak, placed.” 

“We don’t know,” replied cousin Mirzoeff. 

Though there was nothing extraordinary 
in this reply, nor in the sound of his voice, it 
produced on Nikolai Stepanovitch the effect 
of a cold shower-bath. 

u How ? What do you mean to say?” he 
asked with an astonished air. 

“ I wish to say that affairs of this kind 
are not arranged as rapidly as you think ! ” 

“ Still — I suppose — in fifteen days — three 
weeks,” said Foufliguine, trying to give him- 
self courage. 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


255 


“ But it is impossible ! What are you 
thinking about ? ” said Mirzoeff. 

Nikolai Stepanoviteh felt very much as if, 
after a warm bath, he had been plunged into 
ice-water. Becoming himself again after his 
foolish joy, he remarked for the first time 
that his cousin Mirzoeff was no longer the 
same ; that he had changed his manner. 

Piotre Pietro vitch invited him to seat him- 
self. 

“ This is the trouble, my friend. I ob- 
tained information about the vacancies in 
our society,” began Mirzoeff, whose voice 
assumed an official tone. “ Unfortunately, at 
present, we have none.” 

“ But, great Heaven ! you wrote to me that 
there was a place vacant,” cried Nikolai, in a 
despairing voice. 

“Yes, certainly! There was one. The 
place of manager, which I accepted, in order 
to be of service to you. Believe me, dear 
friend, I shall do all in my power; but, you 
understand, it cannot be done as quickly as 
you think.” 


256 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


“ But you said — in fifteen days.” 

“ I thought so ; but after looking over the 
situation, I saw that it was not possible. I 
.should be enchanted, but at this moment 
there are no places vacant. It is really not 
my fault, and even if there was a place, I tell 
you frankly that it would be very difficult 
for me to give it to you.” 

“ Difficult ! ” Nikolai Stepanovitcli re- 
peated mechanically, his forehead covered 
with a cold perspiration. 

“ Yes, difficult, very difficult, for many 
reasons,” said Mirzoeff, in a calm and serious 
tone. “You know yourself that I am a new 
arrival in the society — I have obtained two 
places in such a short time. But that is not 
the reason,” he hastened to say, seeing that 
the cheeks of Nikolai had become livid, and 
that his eyelids were quivering. “ That is 
the least of reasons — I repeat to you — I 
should be very happy ; but here is the great 
difficulty, my good friend. Mediolanski has 
found out that Coco Svistcheff, who has 
given him so much trouble, is your nephew. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


2 51 


There’s the reason! You understand that, 
after that, Mediolanski does not even wish 
to speak of you. I am really pained — 
really ! ” 

“ I am lost ! lost ! lost ! ” cried Nikolai 
Stepanovitch, taking liis head between his 
hands. 

“ But look here,” said Mirzoeff, arranging 
the curls of his wig, “ you mustn’t become 
discouraged. With time everything can be 
arranged.” 

“ With time ! ” cried Nikolai Stepanovitch, 
springing up from the sofa. a Witli time! 
But are you in ignorance of the state of my 
finances ? You know very well that I have 
nothing left. No, Piotre Pietro vitch ; it is 
impossible ! Do what you will, but you must 
place me ! I have already spent for you 
that three thousand rubles, I bought a 
country place, I made presents ” 

“Bat look here, my friend. Who could 
have foreseen ” 

“ It was your duty to have warned me,” 
interrupted Nikolai Stepanovitch, carried 


258 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


away ; but he calmed himself and continued 
gently : “ Piotre Pietro vitch, put yourself in 
my place. I am the father of a family. 
What shall I do ? I cannot live without a 
place ! And besides, you made me hope. I 
had complete confidence in you, and I am 
ruined ! I have only seventy rubles, in all, 
left.” 

“ Listen, my friend,” interrupted Mirzoeff, 
in his turn, accompanying his words with a 
look that would have caused the freshest 
milk to turn. “ I am naturally very angry. 
But you understand I cannot occupy myself 
with your affairs. You must live according 
to your means — that is your business. 
Besides, I do not understand why you 
should complain for money; you have that 
country place ! Out of regard for your posi- 
tion, I will relinquish my part.” 

“ That is generous, very generous ! ” cried 
Foufliguine, who at last saw his cousin in a 
true light. “ And I can tell you that I have 
made inquiries. That property did not cost 
sixteen hundred rubles, it did not cost in all 


THE CRUEL CITY . 


259 


six hundred. Your Mediolanski deceived me 
beautifully, and nothing more.” 

“ Sir ! ” said the cousin, drawing himself 

up. 

“ Yes, sir; he deceived me ! Your Medio- 
lanski is a thief, and nothing more ! ” 

“ Sir, he is my chief, and I cannot permit 
you to ” 

“ Oh, bother all that ! He is a thief ; yes, 
a thief ! ” cried Nikolai Stepanovitch, whom 
anger had frenzied. “ I see clearly now. You 
knew — you knew everything — you too ! ” 

“ How — you dare ? ” said Piotre Pietrovitch, 
losing countenance and retreating toward his 
cabinet. 

“ Yes, I dare ! I dare to say that you 
knew everything ! That is not everything — 
you acted together ! It is clear you have 
also deceived me ! ” howled Nikolai, who had 
completely lost his head. “ You wanted a 
place for yourself — you only thought of your- 
self — you have also deceived me — you are all 
thieves ! ” 

It is hard to say how this interview would 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


260 

liave ended, blit as soon as Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch began to gesticulate angrily, Piotre Pie- 
trovitcli retreated to his cabinet and shut the 
door behind him. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch threw himself in pur- 
suit, with his fists uplifted, but the key grated 
twice in the lock. 

“Thief! thief!” cried Nikolai, pounding 
with all his force on the door with his fists, 
then— for what reason, who can say — beating 
his own head. 

Having thus refreshed himself, he became 
sufficiently calm to seize his hat and go out. 
He never knew how he descended the stairs 
or how he found himself by the Katerina 
Canal. 

He did not quiet down until he reached 
the Woznessusky Bridge, and turned toward 
the Woznessusky Perspective, not knowing 
why he had taken that direction. Many of 
the passers-by opened their eyes wide when 
they looked at him, but Nikolai Stepanovitch 
perceived nothing and paid attention to no 
one. St. Petersburg had lost all its charm 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


261 


for him. The streets, the edifices, the very 
sky itself, seemed to wear that freezing dig- 
nity which had been the leading characteristic 
of his hated cousin Mirzoeff. 

There was such a boiling in his head, his 
temples throbbed with such force, that he 
did not perceive a carriage, that stopped 
almost under his nose, or Coco, who leaped 
out on the ground. 

“ My uncle ! What is the matter ? Oh, 
great God ! you have put on your hat back- 
ward.” 

“ Go away ! go away ! ” cried Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch, repulsing his nephew. 

“ What does this mean ? ” asked Coco, stu- 
pefied. 

“ I know you no longer ! Go away ! You 
are no relation of mine ! You are monsters ! ” 

“ I don’t understand. What has come over 
you ? Some misfortune has arrived,” said 
Coco, changing his riding-whip from one 
hand to the other, and taking his uncle’s arm, 
who at that moment had need of some one to 
sustain him. 


262 


TUE GRUEL CITY. 


a Coco, I am lost ! ” cried Nikolai Stepano- 
vitcli, whose indignation was transformed 
into despair. 

His heart was broken. Was it astonishing 
that he wished to confide his sorrows in some 
one ? 

He recounted in several words the maneu- 
vers of Mirzoeff. 

“ That is capital ! ” cried Coco, with joy, 
cracking his whip. 

“ How ? ” 

“ I am delighted ! ” continued the nephew. 
“ It is a long time since I have shown a 
tooth toward that rascal ! Listen, uncle ! 
Oh, you will see ! What a thief 1 ” cried 
Coco, cracking his whip with rage, and be- 
fore Nikolai Stepanovitck had pronounced a 
single word, he had jumped into his carriage 
and disappeared. 

A presentiment of fresh misfortunes rose 
before Nikolai Stepanovitck ; his ideas be- 
came more and more confused and black ; he 
hardly saw his way; he tottered like a 
drunken man. Knowing he was too feeble 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


263 


to continue, lie called a fiacre and ordered 
tlie coachman to drive as fast as possible to 
the Petersburskaia. 

This ride had a good effect on him. The 
rolling of the carriage, and jolts over the 
uneven pavement, accomplished more for 
his peace of mind than he had even 
imagined. 

His ideas became clearer, but the return to 
reason brought fresh torments. He saw the 
misery of his position, and every turn of the 
wheel brought new discouragements. He 
was in the gloomiest of moods when the car- 
riage stopped before the gate of the micro- 
scopic garden of his country residence. 

The first thing he saw was Lecha and 
Pacha playing on the graveled path. The 
sight of those two children, making mud 
pies and all unconscious of the storm that 
was raging in the soul of their father, was 
like the blow of a knife to the unhappy Fou- 
fliguine. 

Tears glistened in his eyes, and he entered 
the house hastily. Sophia Petrovna, hand- 


264 


TUE GRUEL CITY. 


kerchief in hand, was seated, with a melan- 
choly air, by the window. 

“ Sonetclika we are lost ! lost ! ” 

That was all that Foufliguine said ; he tot- 
tered and fell on the sofa. The sobs of his 
wife restored him to consciousness. He took 
her hand and told her, as well as he was able, 
what had happened. 

“ I lost my head — I became crazy,” he said, 
striding lip and down the room. “ What 
shall we do ? Ah, great God ! that dress- 
maker ! ” 

“ She has gone away ! ” replied Sophia Pe- 
trovna, still sobbing. “ She will not wait. 
She declared — yes, she said that to-morrow 
she would make a complaint to the police. 
Nikolai, dearest, it is I who am guilty ! ” she 
added, throwing herself into her husband’s 
arms. “ All this would not have happened 
but for Madame Mirzoelf. Madame Poupon 
told me everything ! Madame Mirzoelf told 
her that I was very rich, and made me buy 
things in order to calm the modiste, to whom 
she owed a great deal of money. Ah, she is 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


265 


a terrible woman ! I detest her ! I detest 
her ! ” with an energy one would not have 
expected from a woman crushed by misfor- 
tune. 

Seeing that his wife could sustain herself 
without help, Nikolai Stepanovitch allowed 
himself to sink down on the sofa. 

“ Where is my brother ? ” he asked, in a 
faint voice. 

“ He went away long ago. After your de- 
parture he repeated the story of his mis- 
fortunes. Ah, it was frightful ! Not know- 
ing how I could aid him, I gave him the two 
candlesticks and the bronze clock which 
Coco offered to us. He said that they might 
save him.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch listened, with his eyes 
fixed on the floor. At her last words he 
raised his head. 

“ Oh, why — why did we come here to 
this cruel city?” he cried, and suddenly, 
letting his head fall on his breast, he began 
to sob. 


CHAPTER X. 


THE BEST, BECAUSE IT IS THE SHOKTEST. 

The rest of tlie day, and the night which 
followed, did not bring any solace to the 
troubled soul of Nikolai Stepanovitcli. 

Like a traveler who had lost his way in a 
dark forest, he sought in vain to collect his 
ideas, that seemed to scatter before the terri- 
ble pictures which his imagination painted. 
He sought in vain for an issue. Whichever 
way he turned, he saw the conclusion would 
be the disappearance of his last ruble. 

A single resource, and that was to write to 
his uncle Isocim Pietro vitch ; make honorable 
amends before him, and accept the place of 
steward in his distillery. But Sophia Pe> 
trovna would not hear him speak of such a 
thing. As soon as he brought up the subject 
she became hysterical. 

Sophia Petrovna was right, from her point 
266 


7 HE CRUEL CITY. 


267 


of view. She would consent to sweep the 
floors of a distillery, if the distillery was in 
an uninhabited desert ; but to return to the 
province, be called the steward’s wife by the 
people where she had held her head so high ; 
be exposed to the raillery of those to whom 
she had boasted of her relatives in St. Peters- 
burg — for nothing in the world ! Rather, 
death than such dishonor ! 

It is hard to say to what point Nikolai 
shared her opinion. All we know is that he 
kept silent; that he rolled his frightened 
eyes; that he took his head between his 
hands, tried to force his brain to act, and 
found no way of escape from his terrible 
position. 

Sophia Anally told her husband to go out 
in the air to refresh himself. Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch put on his coat and cravat, took 
his hat, and went into the garden. 

Every one can easily understand how the 
presence of Sioussioukoff, who was idling in 
front of the windows, would irritate him at 
such a time. The insolence of this man, wdio 


268 


THE -CRUEL CITY. 


had dared to squeeze bis wife’s band twice — 
wbicb Sopbia Petrovna bad confessed in re- 
lating lier quarrel witb lier cousin Mirzoeff— 
made Nikolai feel like throttling tlie man 
before bim. 

“ Sir,” be said in a solemn voice, stepping 
back several paces. Tlien be drew bimself 
up sternly and retreated again. 
v “ Ab ! Mr. Fouhiguine, excuse me for com- 
ing so soon,” cried tbe young man-about-town, 
approaching him — an insolence that made 
Nikolai Stepanovitcb so indignant that be 
again stepped back. “ A great misfortune 
lias arrived.! I wish to warn you! You 
know nothing about it ? ” 

“ No ! But I repeat to you, sir, that I am 
astonished ! ” 

“ I was also crushed by the news,” added 
Sioussioukoff, with vivacity. “ A terrible 
scene took place yesterday at the Mir- 
zoeifs’. Coco Svistclieff created a horrible 
scandal ! I don’t know what happened ; but 
this morning I went to see Svistclieff. Just 
imagine ! He was arrested that night, and 


THE CRUEL CITf. 


260 

at this time is in the depot of the Prefec- 
ture.” 

“ What the devil is all that to me ? I am 
enchanted ! ” cried Nikolai Stepanovitch, with 
energy. 

“ Yes, lie’s a terrible gamin ; but that is 
not all, Mr. Foufliguine,” continued the 
young man. “ You ought to go and see 
your nephew as soon as possible. In his 
anger against Piotre Pietrovitcli he made a 
tour of the town after the scandal, telling 
every one your story. That may do you an 
injury. He told everybody who would listen 
that you had not got your place. Last night 
your furniture merchant went to Piotre 
Pietro vitch — Svistcheff also told everything 
to him.” 

“ What ? The furniture-dealer ? Oh, my 
God ! ” cried Nikolai Stepanovitch, holding 
his head as if he were afraid that it would 
roll off on the ground. “ I shall go right 
away, I shall go ! I shall go ! What depot ? 
Where is it ? Where ? ” 

“Near the Soliannoi Gorodok, which is 


270 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


opposite tlie Spring Garden,” the young man 
hastened to say. 

“ I will go ! Ah, great God ! Excuse me, 
my wife is ill ; she cannot receive you — ex- 
cuse ” stammered Nikolai Stepanovitch, 

taking the young man by the hand, and push- 
ing him outside of the garden. “ Excuse me ; 
I am very much obliged. I am very much 
troubled myself. Coachman ! coachman ! 
Oh, great heavens ! Do you wish me to take 
you with me ? 

Without giving him time to respond, he 
entered the carriage and rolled away toward 
the Spring Garden. 

The jolts over the pavement again 
calmed Nikolai Stepanovitch. He began by 
wishing to box his nephew’s ears ; to throw 
him on the ground and crush him like some 
venomous animal, but on arrival all these 
bloodthirsty feelings disappeared. The title 
of uncle opened the doors immediately. 
They introduced him into a great ante- 
chamber tilled with soldiers, and showed him 
the door. It was painted in a somber, color, 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


2il 

and the knob of copper glistened in the 
gloom, but whether it was because of the 
dim light, or the emotion that filled 
him, Nikolai Stepanovitch felt around for 
several minutes with his hands before 
he could open the door. He entered a 
little room with a barred window. The 
only furniture was a pine table, a chair, and 
an old leather sofa. Extended on this sofa, 
with his .feet in the air, Coco sang a polka 
accompanied by the cracking of his whip. 
The noise his uncle made in entering caused 
him to raise his head. On perceiving his 
visitor the young man screamed hurrah ! ” 
enthusiastically, and embraced Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch noisily. 

“ My uncle ! you are a good, a brave com- 
rade ! Thanks ! you are the first one to 
come and see me; but I made Mirzoeff see 
stars in plain daylight ! Yes, I made a 
scene. I avenged you ! Don’t you be wor- 
ried because I am here ; it is nothing ! Noth- 
ing at all ! But what a beast he is ! Say, 
he could find nothing better to do than to 


272 


THE CUE EL CITY. 


run and get the police. I made him turn all 
sorts of colors. If yon could have seen how 
frightened he? was ! I told him I was only 
beginning, that no matter where I met him, 
either in a theater, cafe, a club, or the street, 
I should break his sides. That was what 
frightened him, and prompted him to run in 
search of the police. You see, my uncle, 
that you have not been deceived on my 
account. Yes, you love me, and I love you, 
too ! Yes, you will always find in me a 
sincere friend, always ! always ! ” cried Coco, 
throwing himself upon the neck of Nikolai 
Stepanovitcli. But his uncle stepped back 
several paces, and crossed his hands on his 
breast. 

“ Do not embrace me ! I do not wish 
it ! ” he cried, trying to give his voice a 
melancholy tone that would touch his 
nephew. “Your conduct does not display 
friendship; you have only brought trouble 
on my head.” 

“ Trouble ! I ? What are you trying to 
say, my uncle ? If you are discontented be- 


>11IE CRUEL CITY. 


2 IS 

cause I settled with Mirzoeff, you are simply 
a ” 

“ Why did you tell every one that I had 
not obtained my place ? ” said Nikolai Stepan- 
ovitch, raising his voice. “ Why did you do 
that ? I forbid you to speak of it ! ” 

“ Very well. No, my uncle, I don’t hear 
anything through that ear,” interrupted Coco 
ironically. “ And in this particular case, 
permit me to tell you simply that I am not 
listening to you. No, you can glare at me as 
much as you please, I shall continue to cry 
all the same, from the house-tops, that Mir- 
zoeff has deceived you ! That he led you by 
the end of the nose, and that he appropriated 
your place. I shall tell that to every one ! ” 

“ But don’t you know that you are ruining 
me in acting in this way?” answered the 
uncle, lowering his voice in the same measure 
that the nephew raised his. “ Why did you 
tell the furniture-dealer ? you know he only 
let me have the furniture because he thought 
I would get a good place. He will come and 
take it back now ! ” 


274 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


“ He lias only to take it back ! ” said 
Coco, whom nothing astonished. 

“ How ? ” 

“ Why just kick him out when he comes 
to take his furniture ; I have had affairs 
with furniture-dealers before this, and I am 
still on my feet. Besides, do you think that 
I would leave you and my aunt to sit dowm 
on the ground ? I have in my pocket a little 
machine that will save you from going to 
bed on the floor. Look ! a bill of exchange 
for three thousand rubles. Day after to- 
morrow I shall receive the money.” 

“After to-morrow,” murmured Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch, trembling with emotion. 

“Yes, after to-morrow; and, if I told you 
that I loved you, I will prove it by my acts. 
Yes, I hope, the day after to-morrow, when 
they will set me free. Come to me good and 
early in the morning, and I will give you a 
thousand rubles ; you can return them when 
you are able.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch was so upset by this 
unexpected announcement that he threw him- 


THE GETJEL CITY. 


275 


self into the arms of Coco, and for several 
minutes was unable to pronounce a word. 
He began to sob, while his nephew laughed, 
not understanding . what had happened to 
feet his uncle so strangely. Moved by a 
sense of his obligation, Nikolai Stepanovitch 
explained to his nephew what an enormous 
service he was rendering him in lending the 
money. 

The result of this explanation was that 
Coco swore to save his uncle at any price ; to 
give him two thousand rubles, if necessary ; 
and if need be, the entire sum. 

He begged him only to stay another hour 
with him, and while waiting for breakfast to 
drink a glass of champagne, to the health of 
all good boys, and the destruction of that 
canaille Mirzoeff. 

“ My soul, my dear,” said Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch, softened, trying to look at his nephew 
through the tears that filled his eyes. “ Son- 
etchka is unquiet ; you can understand your- 
self that I must hasten to calm her. You 
know everything now. You understand how 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


she must suffer. No, let me go ! my good, 
my clear Coco ! ” 

“ May God bless you,” said Coco, pressing 
liis uncle’s band. “ After to-morrow I shall 
look for you.” 

They embraced again and separated. 

The first thought that Nikolai Stepanovitch 
had on leaving, was to buy an immense cake 
for his wife and children. He took at once a 
carriage to fly to the Petersburskaia. 

I leave you to imagine the feelings of 
Sophia Petrovna when she heard the result of 
her husband’s interview with Coco. 

The joy which brightened the eyes of the 
entire family colored everything with rosy 
light. They decided not to buy any more 
useless things, to be economical, and to em- 
ploy every means to find a place for Nikolai 
Stepanovitch, so that they could scoff at the 
Mirzoeffs. 

The following day Nikolai Stepanovitch, 
who had not ceased to laud his nephew to the 
skies, and even to cite him as an example to 
his children, felt a desire to go and visit Coco 


THE GRUEL GlTY. 


277 


again afc the depot, but his wife was ill and 
he did not wish to leave her. A headache 
was not enough to subdue the gayety which 
overflowed the heart of Foufliguine. 

After dinner he proposed to the family 
that they should take an excursion in a boat. 
The trip passed as agreeably as those they 
had made during their first days in St. Peters- 
burg. 

I do not know whether Sophia Petrovna 
had a good night, but Nikolai Stepanovitch 
slept, until eight o’clock in the morning, the 
sleep of the just. Pie would probably have 
slept longer if the cook had not come to wake 
him. 

“ What do you want ? ” he asked. 

“ You are asked for.” 

“ Who is it ? ” 

“ The furniture-dealer.” 

“ Shu ! shu ! ” he murmured, raising his 
finger, and pointing toward Sophia Petrovna, 
who slept. “In a moment; tell him to 
wait.” 

He slipped out of the sheets and went into 


278 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


the next room, where he dressed himself with- 
out being in any hurry. 

“ Where is the furniture-dealer ? ” he asked, 
entering: the kitchen. “ He is not in the ante- 
chamber ; what has become of him ? ” 

“ He is waiting in the street, near the gar- 
den gate,” responded the cook. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch put on his hat and 
went out by the balcony into the garden. 
Behind the gate a man in a blue caftan was 
walking up and down with a discontented air. 
Ten paces beyond stood two furniture vans. 
Nikolai Stepanovitch paid no attention to the 
latter. 

“ Good-day, my friend ! You have arrived 
early,” said Nikolai, with the voice of a man 
who carries a murderous arm in his pocket, 
capable of destroying his enemy. 

“ Give me my furniture, sir ! ” said the 
dealer coarsely. 

u What for ? ” 

“I have no reason to give you. Let me 
have the furniture that you have taken, that’s 
all!” 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


279 


“ That’s good ! ” interrupted Nikolai Ste- 
panovitch, with a calmness that would have 
done honor to Mirzoeff. “ That’s good! 
They told you that I had lost my place, eh ? 
It was Piotre Pietrovitch and my nephew 
who told. But don’t you believe there are 
other places in St. Petersburg ? ” 

“ Of course there are, but let me tell you, 
sir, that I don’t care about that ! We gave 
you furniture on credit because Piotre Pietro- 
vitch answered for you, and now I beg of you. 
to give it back.” 

“ If you want it, my friend, with the 
greatest pleasure. But see here,” said Nik- 
olai Stepanovitch, in an amiable tone, “if 
you are a sensible man, you will pay atten- 
tion to what I am about to say. I took the 
furniture on credit ; up to the present I have 
been short of money. But circumstances 
have changed ; I can pay you now ! The 
furniture does not particularly please me, but 
it’s all the same. I’ll take it to save my- 
self the trouble of having to choose other. 
Tell me, are you satisfied or not ? ” 


280 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


The furniture-dealer opened his eyes wide. 

“ I repeat ; take the furniture right away 
if you want to ; but if you have no objections, 
I will buy it. To-day, about two or three 
o’clock, you can have your money. Well ? 
Do you consent ? ” 

“ Gladly, sir ! If matters are thus, I shall 
wait with pleasure ! ” 

“Very well! that’s perfect,” concluded 
Nikolai Stepanovitch. “You have no need 
of returning to St. Petersburg ; you can wait 
at a wine-seller’s, there behind the corner — 
and at two o’clock precisely, you hear ? come 
and find me.” 

Saying this Nikolai Stepanovitch turned 
his back on the furniture-dealer, and with a 
light step and a smiling face re-entered the 
house. He did not say a word to his wife 
about the merchant’s visit. Finally Nikolai 
departed to see his nephew. 

The coachman who drove him had never 
had a passenger so gay and amiable. During 
the drive Nikolai Stepanovitch questioned 
him in detail about his life, his wife, and his 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


281 


children. At intervals he whistled merry 
airs, and twice he broke out with fits of 
laughter for no apparent reason. Arrived in 
St. Petersburg he ordered the coachman, first 
of all, to drive to the depot, but Coco was no 
longer there. 

“ Have they let him go ? ” 

“ I cannot tell you,” said the sergeant. 
“ We have just arrived.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch went in great haste 
to the Konconchennaia. 

“ I am content that the furniture-dealer 
woke me up early,” he thought, as he mounted 
the stairs. “ That dear child Coco, happy to 
find himself free, may have run off at dawn. 
Still — no — no he loves me too much for 
that ! He knows the state of my affairs. I 
am sure he will wait.” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch rang. 

A strange servant opened the door. 

“ You wish to see ? ” 

Nikolai Stepanovitch wanted to answer, 
but hearing footsteps in his nephew’s room, 
he plunged into the apartment and came 


282 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


near upsetting a fat gentleman, whose gray 
hair was frizzed over his temples. 

“Excuse me, sir,” said Foufliguine. “I 
want to see Coco, on very particular busi- 
ness.” 

“ To whom have I the honor of speaking ? ” 
said the unknown. 

“ Foufliguine,” responded Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch, with impatience, persuaded that he was 
talking to one of those elderly friends who 
despoiled Coco in such a shameful manner. 
“Permit me to ask your own name,” he 
added. 

“Vakonchine,” replied the other, “unfor- 
tunately, the tutor of this gamin, of this rogue 
Svistcheff.” 

“ Sir ! I am his uncle ! ” cried Foufliguine, 
with dignity. “ Coco ! Coco ! ” he called, 
advancing toward the door. 

“ Why ! don’t you know ? ” asked the 
tutor, with a stupefied air. 

“What?” 

“ He is no longer here.” 

“ How ? ” 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


283 


a You have not heard ? ” 

“ No,” murmured Stepanovitch, while a 
shiver ran down his back. 

“ They sent him, that night, with a police- 
man to Viatka.” 

“ It is impossible ! ” cried Nikolai Stepano- 
vitch, in a broken voice, shaking his head, 
in which everything was swimming and 
whirling. 

“ I regret it very much, sir, but it is so ! ” 
responded the tutor. “ Otherwise, if you 
know your nephew and love him, you will 
understand that this exile is useful ; that it 
will do him good.” 

“ But the money ? Where is the money ? 
I came here to get money ! ” cried Nikolai 
Stepanovitch, like a madman. 

The tutor cast a suspicious glance at him. 

“ I don’t know anything about it,” he said 
coldly, turning away. 

At that moment he had to turn again to 
come to the aid of Nikolai StepaDovitch, who 
fell his length on the floor. I shall not de- 
scribe how the tutor and the servant restored 


284 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


the unfortunate uncle to consciousness. It 
will suffice to say that they did all that they 
could and behaved like conscientious men. 

As soon as he returned to consciousness they 
helped him downstairs and into a carriage. 

Reader ! when you meet a man in a cab, 
with his arms and legs swaying, his face livid, 
shivering in a corner among the cushions, do 
not hurry to cast at him a look of contempt. 
Do not hasten to utter the humiliating epi- 
thet of “ drunkard ! ” 

Oh ! Nikolai Stepanovitch woidd have 
been a hundred times happier, had he been 
drunk. 

Without considering what he was doing, 
he crossed the Yaskressensko Bridge, and 
found himself in the Petersburgskaia Storona, 
with its melancholy lines of walls. He re- 
turned to consciousness as he neared his house, 
before which the furniture-dealer was pacing 
impatiently. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch gave the coachman the 
first piece of money he found in his pocket, 
and entered the kitchen by the back-door. 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


285 


“ Here is a letter, sir. A soldier brought 
it,” said the cook, coming to meet him. 

“ The letter is from my nephew. He has 
written that he will send the money. Before 
his departure he has not forgotten his uncle 
and having no other means of communica- 
tion, he has sent a soldier. Oh, brave 
Coco!” 

This thought passed like a flash through 
the brain of Nikolai Stepanovitch ; he seized 
the letter with a ferocious joy and tore it 
open. 

“ Sir : You are requested to present your- 
self before the bailiff of your quarter for the 
affair with the stranger, Amelie Bose Cecile 
Poupon.” 

Here followed the bailiff’s signature. 

But Nikolai Stepanovitch did not read it ; 
his hands quivered, his limbs refused to sup- 
port him, he would certainly have cracked his 
skull on the edge of the door if the cook had 
not held him. 

But let us hasten away, so as not to hear 
the despairing cries, the hysterical laughter, 


286 


TEE CRUEL tiTY\ 


or smell the odor of Hoffman’s anodyne 
wliicli filled the house. 

At two o’clock, at two o’clock precisely, 
the furniture-dealer presented himself. 

At five o’clock the rooms of the Foufli- 
guines looked like a desert. The only furni- 
ture that remained was a dilapidated sofa 
taken from the cook. 

Nikolai Stepanovitch, stretched on this sofa, 
his head bound up with a towel, lay with his 
face toward the wall. His eyes were closed. 
At his feet, Sophia Petrovna was seated. 
Her bosom heaved, the tears from her eyes 
fell on the heads of Lecha and Pacha, who 
sobbed on their mother’s knees. 

The cook, an indifferent spectator, stood by 
the side of Nikolai Stepanovitch, a bottle of 
vinegar in one hand and a plate in the other. 
She seemed to be more occupied about her- 
self than in the moving tableau of the Foufli- 
guine family, smitten by misfortune. And 
the terrible scene before her eyes did not af- 
fect her in the least. 


CHAPTER XI. 


A LETTER IN THE GUISE OF AN EPILOGUE. 

Among the fifty-three thousand letters that 
arrived at St. Petersburg, the 3d of June, 
185 — , was one with the following address: 

To Nikolai Stepanovitch Foufliguine, 

At Peski, Gloukliaia Lane, House of tlie 
Soldier Sovronoff, 

containing five hundred rubles. 

The Gloukhaia Lane was hard to find. 
Nevertheless, the letter of advice, announcing 
the arrival of five hundred rubles, reached its 
destination. 

The same day the letter and money were in 
the hands of Nikolai Stepanovitch. They 
were from his uncle Isocim Pietro vitch. We 
will quote a few extracts. 

“Your letter was brought to me by the 
clerk Iermile. I recognized at once by the 
writing that it came from you, and I said to 


288 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


Iermile, ‘We shall see if St. Petersburg has 
not clipped the wings of my birds/ for other- 
wise you would not have written to your 
uncle, that old fossil, that old back number. 
Don’t defend yourself, for I have heard you 
with my own ears, call me so, when I came 
to see you the last time. Your wife also 
paid me like compliments, when I counseled 
her to come and install herself at the distil- 
lery. As I don’t know how to conduct my- 
self with delicate and well-bred ladies, I was, 
perhaps, without wishing to be, a little boor- 
ish, and she was perfectly right in letting me 
know that I was in the way in your house. 
You both write that you accept my proposi- 
tion with thanks, and regret bitterly that you 
did not sooner. 

“ You thought, dear nephew, and dear 
niece, that it was only necessary to present 
yourselves in St. Petersburg with the title of 
nobles to attract attention and obtain a good 
place. It would be beautiful if they gave to 
every hair-brained noble, who was ruined, a 
place, for the only reason that he was noble ! 


THE CRUEL CITY. 


280 


No, my friend, those days are past, and 
God be praised ! 

“ Taking into consideration the services 
that you have rendered, your knowledge, 
your talent, and your aptitude for work, I be- 
gin to ask myself, if I should let you enter 
the distillery. Would you be useful here ? 
But I see by your letter that you are no 
longer proud, as you were. The voyage to 
St. Petersburg and the three thousand rubles 
so quickly squandered, have done you good. 
That encourages me. I have therefore sent 
you money to pay your debts and for the 
voyage. 

“ As to that which concerns Arkadi i — well ! 
My dear nephew, pardon me, but I shall do 
nothing to get that person out of prison. 
His children have been taken in by distant 
relations of his wife, too. What more can be 
done for Pigounoff? He ought to thank 
Heaven for so much blessing ! As for himself, 
he has only to remain in prison ; he ought to 
be happy, if they would keep him for the 
rest of his life. 


290 


THE GRUEL CITY. 


“ I will say the same for Svistcheff ! I 
shall not clo anything to get him away from 
Viatka! You say that he is exiled for a 
year — it is a pity that it is not for three 
years. 

“ You were wrong to tell me that the wife 
of Mirzoeff has rendezvous with a young man ; 
that Mirzoeff knows it, and turns a deaf ear 
for fear of a scandal ! 

“ All that is none of my business. 

“Pay your debts and take the train. 
Enough nonsense already ; it is time to be- 
come serious ; to forget the follies of fashion, 
and to occupy yourself with your children, 
dear Sophia Petrovna ! 

“ It is time, high time, dear nephew, to lay 
your unworthy pride aside, and go to work. 
Believe me, work alone can give a certain 
value to the name of Foufliguine, as it gives 
it to all of us others, and so let it be ! ” 


THE END. 



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